Solitude
by MomoCGLW
Summary: Trapped in the past, Ginerva can't break free. She's stuck in a world which contradicts her mind, forcing her to embrace solitude. What she doesn't know is that someone has taken notice and wishes to claim her as his own. What fate do these two now face?
1. Chapter 1

The stories plot is pleasantly in my care and is not yours. The characters and things used taken from HP are property of JK Rowling.

_**Summary:** After undergoing an intense mental and physical ordeal, Ginny is left battling her present while being unable to let go of her past. While trying to embrace solitude, she finds her resolve cracking. What happens when she gives in? Who will break her free?_

**A/N:** Canon only up to HP 4's end. Past that it is mostly fanon.

#2: I am currently revising all chapters. Plot will not change.

#3: Italics means that it is NOT happening in present time.

**Solitude...**

**Chapter 1**

Sitting by myself has always been preferable. Being able to communicate openly without barriers, without judgment, and above all with pure and everlasting clarity. Thoughts of the past sectioned off into the appropriate compartment. Each labeled with a reaction. A reaction that I should have had. A reaction that I was too afraid to display.

"Ginny?"

My head whipped around so that my eyes were met with a pair of disapproving eyes.

"Why didn't you tell Ron that you weren't going home for dinner?" Fake sincerity emitted as the words tumbled out of Harry's mouth.

Staring blankly back at him I failed to reason an answer. His games were long past tiresome. His assumption that I could still love him brought upon his belief that I might revert to an old memory from being graced with his presence. That regardless of my usually quiet and meek demeanor, that he would breathe back the life into me. Sometimes I would play along, tell him what he wanted to hear. Today, however, I lacked the patience and thus remained silent.

"Gin." He implored me as he reached a hand to cup my face.

At his touch my eyes lost there glazed expression taking on slits beneath furrowed brows. "Ginerva." I rasped out pushing back from the table.

Harry moved to stop me, but failed to moved swiftly enough. I moved to face him one last time, my lips forming the words 'stop' unaccompanied by sound. With that, I swiftly barreled my way out of the great hall making my way to the one plaice I felt at peace.

Moving through the dank barren hallway I listened to each step's echo, delighting in the notion that each step brought me one step closer to home.

'Home.' I whispered upon reaching the dirt scattered mahogany door. Rarely ever touched, the door was only marked with the graze of my fingers on the doorknob. Encircling the knob I turned it once left and then right after tapping twice on the lower key hole. It was a simple ritual, but it molded the room specially for me: the once brown room evolved into black and silver splattered furniture. A bookcase that had just a second ago been covered by weeds, now stood clear of everything and filled with books on every known topic and issue.

I made my way to the couch before resting my head down upon a feather laced silver throw pillow. Treating the couch as if it were a person I curled into its back allowing myself the allusion of being held. A tinge of fear ran down my spine as a sharp chill nestled into my skin, once again reaffirming the fear that accompanied comfort.

There was no point in denying that I need comfort. But, even more so, I need the solitude that would numb the effects allowing a release I could only hope to find here.

_/_

Hours passed and I ceased all movement with the help of a spell which kept me frozen in a board like position. The only movement that stirred came from the turbulence within. Bitterly painful, I knew it wasn't healthy to use magic in this way. However, no one would know. It was Hogwarts after all, house to magic. No one would even second guess if they spotted underage magic going on.

As my mind reached a clear passage into memories of my second year a sudden pound was heard at the door. Accompanying guttural sounds made there way freely through the walls, marking the first time I had encountered the presence of others while in my haven. Crashing ensued as a high pitched scream was followed with the utterance of a single word, which peaked my attention: "Harry."

'Prince charming.' I remarked to myself oddly pleased at outside confirmation that he was not the bloody perfect hero that everyone seemed to dote upon.

"Shut up," he roared, "don't speak. Don't show me your face." His tone teetered on violent and intimidating, something I had been all to familiar with.

A short pause was followed my a loud snap, causing a knee jerk reaction to coil in on itself. But it could not. Physically the spell had me pinned.

"I am so sorry," spoke a much calmer toned Harry to the poor soul rest outside the door. Sure I could play Potter and run out there and save the day, which could humiliate Harry enough to get him to once and for all leave me alone. But I failed to care.

With that final thought, I drifted back into my thoughts. Back to the land of clarity.

_/_

_'Can you hear me? Can you feel me by your side where I rest every night? Why won't you look at me,' these thoughts were ones that I wanted to say to him. The words I never could bring myself to speak. His hands had rested upon my waist pulling me to him, as if he had decided to claim me as his own. Just as I thought things were going to be all is well, he smiled. It was that smile. The one I knew all to well from the memories, and he crushed his mouth down on mine before releasing me to the floor._

_'You still remain ignorant. You stand here as if I should be grateful, thankful, enough so that I should be required to show generosity. Quite foolish.'_

_His eyes grazed over my plain form and I looked up at him confused, wondering where all of this was coming from. 'Even my parents understood the role they were to play. They understood the order of things, but you seem unable to do the same. Do you take pleasure in your benightedness?'_

_Pulling at my skirt I wished for more fabric to thrust myself into. Defeated in my attempt I responded meekly, 'You asked me to come.'_

_'I did, but never did I mention you were here for me. You were called her for us,' he stated whilst opening his arms outwards revealing the men that stood amongst the shadows._

_'I don't understand.'_

_'You never did, Gin. You never did.'_

_'Can I go home?' The words came out in such a way that I knew there was only one answer. _

_'No. I need you to stay here. I need you to see why you must stay.'_

_The fear pulsating through my veins felt fresh, the tears still burned. My hands lost feeling and my face stood statuesque as I contemplated what allowed me my next action. 'I'll leave.'_

_With the last syllable free from my lips, I disappeared into the nights mist. I ran until I was a safe distance away frantically trying to find the portkey back to where I had started. Upon grasping it, air rushed past me until I arrived back in front of Diagon alley. At once I collapsed, tears clouded my vision as they stained the ground beneath my feet. Even as I remained a pitiful mess, I still wished for his embrace. To this day I feel as though I could never let him go. His trickery welcomed, because I'd rather be a fool than without him._

_/_

I awoke still frozen but my skin itched as my emotions became too much. It was all too much. Whispering a reversal spell my body collapsed into the same pitiful mess I was then. 'Pain is normal' I chided ordering myself to let it out.

Sobs racked my body proving to be paralyzing. With the little energy I could muster I forced the memory back to its compartment sealing away its tears back into its proper hole. This was all I knew. I could only deal with it in this way.

Once my tears ceased to fall and the pressure around my heart eased, I went to the mirror next to the bookcase. Picking up a red bound snakeskin novel, I slowly glanced at the title before slamming it into the mirror. Shards fell to the floor as the final action of my ritual was complete.

With that I left.

Once out of the dungeons I made my way up to Gryffindor's corridors. Finally upon reaching the entrance I was prevented from entering by someone I had heard more than enough of this evening.

"Gin." Cooed Harry.

Exhausted I gave into responding, "I made it clear harry."

"I have no idea what you mean," he whined slipping his arms around my waist.

"Let go," I growled out as my expression narrowed.

"Don't be this way."

Finally having enough, I faced him. With the return of my vacant expression I quipped, "What way should I be Harry? What way is going to make you yell at me? Scream the same way you did at whomever you had in the dungeons tonight."

His eyes slipped back into a guarded state, followed by the downturn of his mouth and balled fists. "What are you talking about?"

"Give it up Harry."

His face retorted into disgust. "I don't even understand why your brother tries with you anymore." Slowly his expression returned to one of self praise. "Your simply a waste. No one would take what you say as something worthy of truth."

Turning his back on me he stated the password and slipped through the portrait hole. As I stood outside I found myself gratified in knowing that his intended effect would never succeed. He failed to understand that trying to burn steel is only bad for the person holding the blowtorch.

Knowing I would need to feign his intended response, I made my way into the common room a sallow look spread across my face as I sauntered to the staircase leading to the female bedrooms. I would bide my time waiting until I could quietly make my way back down to the dungeons. Back to my haven. Back home.

_End of Chapter 1_

_Thank you for reading~ Would love to hear feedback!_


	2. Chapter 2

Please read and review! Story belongs to me. People and things from HP belong to JK Rowling.

Warning: Physical and Emotional Violence.

**Solitude...**

Chapter 2

Hours passed as I got ready for the day ahead. Putting on my ratty robes over a disgusting shade of red sweater and a brown skirt. These were some of the few things I had not ripped up in one of my tirades down in the dungeons. I turned to the mirror where I looked at myself, analyzing the creases above my brow where dirt had settled. Below that my eyes stood out with a piercing resemblance of death to them, and my mouth looked to have never been opened, to never have cracked a smile. A mantra of every morning.

Smoothing out my robes I grabbed my bag and left my room. I waddled down the stairs until I reached the bottom where a few Gryffindors laid out with their hot chocolates and broad spaced smiles. Laughter pierced my ears causing my innards to shrink in on itself with an almost foreign scare effect. Doing all I could to get out of there as fast as possible was the only rational thing I could come up with.

Moving outside of the portrait and into the hollow halls I was able to once again find a pleasant path towards where I needed to go. I moved between the cracks and grime that filled the halls and even smiled inwardly at the change in temperature from the Gryffindor warmth to the cold sweeping ice that only existed as you get closer to Slytherin. It just so happened that the area surrounding Slytherin, was one of comfort and always left me with a yearning to return.

Today felt different thought. There was something that I just couldn't put my finger on. It was as if the walls were getting closer, as if air was being swallowed up as I moved on. When I got to the left turn in the eighth hallway I was met with a strange sight. There sitting next to a rock was none other then Draco Malfoy.

 I had seen him plenty of times before, all unbeknownst to him. He often was by himself or in the arms of a Slytherin arm trophy. Each one seemed to be more beautiful then the last, but the rock next to him now was a little bit out of the ordinary.

I knew that I could keep moving and I knew that it was what I should be doing. But I simply couldn't bring myself to continue moving. It just seemed all too strange. Draco was talking, words slipping off of his tongue and slithering their way out into the crisp air. His words were each spoken with a roughness that was all too familiar and an innocence that I never knew existed.

I was drawn in. I felt the pull. So I stayed there, following my urges' orders.

"He can't possibly know could he?" Draco rushed out as he dug a fingernail into his right palm.

Then nothing. Silence settled in around the low and heavy breathing of the two bodies.

"He knows. I know it. I know that I'm in for trouble. Trouble isn't good." He continued ranting.

His words seemed to be those of a madman. His eyes were hidden between the shadows but if I could see them I could only imagine the pain that may have been there. My curiosity had been filled and so I needed to move on. I needed to keep walking. 'I need to. I need to.' I repeated to myself until I found my eyes resting on a second hall that I could take, and I moved with an awkward stroll until the shadows too hid me.

_____

Class wasn't something I attended very often. There were few classes that interested me. But when it came to potions I would find it in myself to show up. I had to admit that I liked Snapes approach to the class.

He was always cold. His eyes shone with the same hate that I found in the mirror all too often. His appearance mirrored mine. It comforted me. Sadly I lacked the skill for the class and often would just fall back into the background trying to go unnoticed. Something I overtime had become very good at.

Snape never really bothered to pay me much attention. Even though I was a Gryffindor, there were still plenty of ripe and fresh blood onto which he could let his snide comments role off. Today his target was a little blond named Anna. She wasn't very smart but her smirks let on that she believed that she was better then those around her. I had never cared one way or another for her, but her smile had always made me wish her dead. Wish for her blond hair to turn the crimson that had so often entered my dreams.

It may seem strange to think of killing someone, but that feeling has long since past. After killing someone it's not that hard to contemplate doing it once more.

______

The class was let out a little after 11 and I knew lunch would be served in only a short time, but I didn't dare go. Instead I buried myself into the wall and pushed myself down towards the direction of the dirt covered door. I wanted back in. I wanted to be free. I wanted it. I pursued it. I met it.

 The door once again stood in front of me. Inviting me to break it open. So I repeated my ritual and once again stepped into the room, peace overwhelmingly flowing through me. I made my way to the same couch and cast the same spell.

'Let it be.' I sang inside my head.

"_You can't break it can you?"_

"_No." I answered cautiously afraid to meet his gaze._

"_I really wish you would allow me to see your green eyes Gin. I miss the way they sparkle when you screamed my name."_

_He was taunting me but I didn't feel angry. I felt alone. I felt pressure. I felt myself moving towards him._

"_You see, you don't even understand what it is. You move with me, your sweet scent slowly drifting into the dank pools that surround your soul, and your mouth slowly moving with mine."_

_I wanted to hear it. He was going to say it._

"_Your mine."_

"_Yes." I replied. "I am."_

This was a dream that I didn't offer encounter. Sure it had happened before but it was never with the same intensity. His eyes this time were more powerful, and his scent was all too real. I wanted him to be this couch, be the one that held me.

But he wasn't.

He couldn't.

I know.

I reran the same memory again and again, images flowing and rushing in circles around my head. Flashes of other memories slipped in. Like when he kissed me. When he held me. When his arms were tight around me.

They all felt real. They all felt true. They were all lies. He had never kissed me in the way I was flashing back to. He never held me to comfort me. It had been a mix of bruises and cuts. A mix of lust and regret.

It was as it was and I could not change it.

But the memory could.

The memory did.

Until....

_*smack* A hand came down on my face causing a drop of crimson to fall to the floor. Tears weren't there. There was nothing there. It was all gone. I didn't look back up at him in fear that he would hit me once more. With a sudden jolt I was thrust into floor as his foot collided with my stomach. He kicked me two more times until he laid me down onto the floor._

"_You love it don't you?" He questioned in a voice that rang of pure intentions._

_I couldn't answer. What was I to say. If I said yes it would continue. If I said no it would continue. I tried to remove myself so that I would not feel what was to come but then he surprised me. He kissed me, suddenly causing me to flow back into myself. It didn't hurt, it wasn't tender, but it was something else. It was as if he was apologizing._

"_I wish it were different. I truly do."_

_These words sparked fear. What could he be implying. My eyes wandered to meet his and his hand came to rest upon my cheek. Stroking it as if it were a porcelain doll. _

"_If you were dead things would be so much easier."_

'_No' I heard myself scream. 'No! NO!' It was too late his foot had met with the side of my head and slowly I faded off into the black depths of time._

As I broke off from the memory I heard myself screaming. I heard the screech that had filled the rooms walls. I released the spell and once again crumbled to the floor. This time it was worse. I needed a stronger release. I pulled for my wand and cast a splitting spell. It tore at me creating little tears along my arms and legs, each one healing before reopening. Blood dripped down all around me and the pain froze me and pushed me into the cold concrete below me. Concentrating the pain in a new area was helpful and resourceful. It helped to bring me back down to where I needed to be.

The pain slowly suppressed itself and once again I went to the mirror. This time I was almost scared of what I saw. There was a different look in my eyes. It was as if actual emotion had slipped in. As if something from the past had almost triggered some sort of response.

I looked away and then looked back, and this time the emotion wasn't there. It was once again a cold and hollow look.

With that I moved towards the door. Without even looking back at the mirror I waived my wand and it shattered into pieces as I left the room.

__________

I realize that the Draco/Ginny is slow to come but be patient. The best things come in due time.


	3. Chapter 3

The stories plot is pleasantly in my care and is not yours. The characters and things used taken from HP are property of JK Rowling.

I love reviews. They make my day. Even the smallest reminder that the work is being appreciated brings a smile to my face.

**Solitude**

Nighttime had once again fallen and a cool wind swept the grass into little clusters intertwined with the moist earth interwoven on the grounds. People would often avoided these kind of nights, and would prefer to stay in their warm little beds smiles and laughter consuming their every thought. The night time couldn't make me laugh, but somewhere inside I could smile.

I made my way down to the water front where crystal clear waters reflected the moon's pure light. Around the lake shadows popped up in every corner and delight was brought out in the dancing branches of the trees. It was only fitting that this is where I should decide to rest. I found a rock just a few feet away and let my head slip into its contours. My eyes wandered back to the sky, the darkness enveloping my sight.

I slowly fell into a dream state. One where there was space, a never ending walkway to wherever I wanted to go. There were no doors, there was no need for doors. For where else would I want to be. I could feel the walls beckoning to me, slowly bending to meet me tenderly holding onto me. It was peaceful and I couldn't let go of this feeling. I didn't want to. Then all of a sudden I heard a voice.

"It wasn't me. I swear." Came a voice from only a few feet away.

I was startled causing my body to convulse once. The night freed it's hold on me as I tried to adjust my eyes to the it's colors trying to seek out where the noise had come from. I looked frantically around me wondering who it could possibly be, and then all of a sudden I caught a glimpse of sliver.

"It wasn't my fault. It couldn't possibly be." Spoke Draco.

His face was hidden but his hair gave him away. His words seemed to roll of of his tongue as if he were singing a song, but the words didn't seem to be directed towards anyone. Drawing my attention to where he was facing I realized there was no one there. He was speaking but no body was listening, other then myself of course.

"I wish it weren't a one way. I wish it weren't." He started screaming. His hands immediately reached up to claw at his hair. With a short second of time passing he fell to the ground and I saw his back heaving. I didn't understand. Why was he out here? Why was he screaming? The better of all these questions being, why was he crying?

Minutes seemed to past as I stared at him. Each minute more aggressive then the one before it, my eyes darting towards the different sections of his body. My eyes intensified whenever they made their way to his face. Then all of a sudden he looked up.

I stood frozen wondering if the way his staring off into the distance was somehow directed at me. My body turned in on itself trying to push the idea that he had noticed me far out of my mind. My face contorted into an unexplainable petrified state.

"Who is it?" He called out.

'No.' I told myself as I tried to scrunch down into a little ball. 'He couldn't possibly have seen me.'

"Who the bloody fucking hell is out here?" He screamed out as he stood up, his robes billowing around him.

'No, Ginny. Be quiet.' I told myself my voice resonating inside my head, filling it's vast corners.

Instead of speaking he started walking. His footsteps were large and his feet always met the ground with great force. Each time his foot would land the ground around it would shrink away, and the grass would thin out.

He's getting closer. His footsteps creeping nearer until he's stood directly above me.

"Weaslet." His voice uttered, as if in disbelief. "You're here?"

I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to converse. Was I to tell him that I was spying on him, is that even normal. Should I tell him nothing and pretend he wasn't even here. There are too many possibilities to comprehend, and I think it would be in my best interest to just not look at him, so I lowered my eyes and looked away.

He scoffed. It was as if he was loosing it. It was an awkward scoff that drew my eyes to his raspberry shaded lips. They were slightly parted but there was a twitch every so often in the right corner of his mouth. "Just answer a question. Why are you out here?" His voice was drenched in anger and pain. His eyes turning into slits as he slowly bent down next to me, and extended a hand to reach towards my chin.

"I. I. I go." It was all I could muster before throwing myself in the opposite direction of his hand and sprinting towards the castle's doors. I had never once ran into Draco in this fashion. He had never noticed my presence, no one really ever did. That made tonight all the more peculiar. He had noticed me. He had.

Once reaching the doors I flung myself through the entrance, my breath short as I went up the stairs. I was tired, but I didn't let it bother me and I continued to flee up the stairs to where I was hoping I would be free of him. Each step brought me closer, and finally I had reached the Gryffindor common rooms.

It wasn't that late so I was still alright to go through the door without eyes grazing over me pondering why I had come back so late. Once I opened the doors my assumption turned true. No one looked over, no one even spared a glance. They all were busy doing whatever they had been doing before I came. It was better this way.

Pulling myself to the stairs was an easy feat. I had quickly reached the bottom stairs to the girls dormitory and started to ascend. As I got farther up I felt a fear building inside of me. A fear that only came with him. A fear that soon was to turn into reality.

"Gin." He called out to me from the floor. "Gin, let me in."

He didn't know I wasn't in there. He's calling my name, but I don't understand why.

"Gin."

I wasn't sure what to do but I knew I really had no where else to go so I moved towards the door to my room, taking him aback with a look of surprise. I ignored him as I opened my door trying to push my way through only to be thrown back into the wall.

"Gin," he growled out his face inches from mine. "I've needed this so badly. I can't stay away."

Fear built inside me. I was starting to loose feeling in my hands and my legs as he pushed me farther into the wall. Why did his words need to have this effect on me. Why is it that his words still resonate passion.

"You keep taunting me every day, every night. Every time I see you it's another one of your games." he spoke in an almost inaudible whisper. "Why won't you smile?"

'This isn't funny anymore.' "Stop," I said in a tone that not even I believed.

"Your so easy Gin. So easy to figure out."

"I said stop." With that I pushed him off of me and tried to get through and into my room, but I wasn't strong enough. He pushed his way through and grabbed me once again.

"Gin. I miss you," he stammered. I didn't know what to make of these words. It was true that at one point in time I would have been quite grateful to him to have ever heard these words but right now they were far from comforting.

"Harry," I choked out, "I don't want you."

"You keep saying that, but I can't seem to believe it's truly what you mean. Down in the great hall yesterday and last night in the common room, both times you drew me in."

"I didn't mean to," I said moving my face so that I wasn't looking at him anymore. "Harry the only words I have for you are words of hatred."

That was it, he snapped. I watched as his hand came down across my face not bothering to move. It had been this way half of last summer, and things were not going to change now. "You still love him don't you. That's why I could never get through. You still love the man that killed your family. Ruined your brother. The man that took away your own life."

He was talking about 'him.' I had made that mistake recently. Letting Harry in on why I had changed so much. Letting him in, letting him be there fore me. Instead of reacting with kindness he had pushed me away. Every night I would feel the pain he would throw at me as he tried to get across the point that I was crazy. That for loving the person I did I deserved nothing better then what 'he' had received.

His voice turned icy as he stood up looking down on me,"Your a fuck up Gin. You really aren't worth the air you breathe." With that he threw something on the ground and turned his back to me and proceeded down the stairs.

I sat there thinking over what he said, not able to disagree. 'I was a fuck up' I thought to myself. Ever since my fourth year I had completely submerged my self into the state I was in now. But it wasn't fair for him to talk of me in this manner, he didn't truly understand the history behind those words.

I slowly gathered my strength and stood up moving to close the door when all of a sudden I noticed something else. There was a bottle outside the door. I picked it up and read the small writing printed on it, _Snorgel Mongel's happy smiles perfume~Guaranteed to make you smile. _

'He's not all bad.' I thought to myself as I threw the bottle into the garbage and closed the door.

I went over to my bed and crawled under the covers. I kept contemplating the idea that things could be different. If two summers ago I had listened to my parents I wouldn't be the mess I am today. Not only that but Charlie and Bill might still be alive.

"_Ginny dear can you go into the cupboards and retrieve the sugar."_

"_Aw, mom. I can't. I have to go. I'm suppose to leave within the hour."_

"_I already told you that you weren't allowed to go Ginerva." Molly spoke out quickly brushing the flour from her apron and trying to manage the pots on the stove._

"_But mom."_

"_No buts. I told you it isn't safe for you out there so just believe me for once why don't you."_

"_Mom I'm just going for a night or two. You really have nothing to worry about." I chirped to my mother as I rushed out the door,using the fact that she couldn't leave the stove as insurance that I would make it without a problem. I knew that only a few miles away that there was a key portal I could take to the mansion._

"_Ginerva." I heard my mother scream._

_I didn't look behind me to see my mother's reddened face, instead I continued moving quickly towards the key portal. Finally it was in view and it stood at the top of a little mogul. I reached out for it, only to be met with an ice cold blast. Everything went dark._

_The air thinned out, and I started gasping for whatever was left and then I collapsed._

All too quickly my body threw itself into overdrive as if it was seizing. I grabbed at my pillow clutching it with my eyes glued open boring holes into the ceiling and my mouth dry. This was not a moment to be reveled. I knew it was my fault. So why did it always have to make it this clear that it was my fault. I already paid with who I used to be, must it still rake away at who I am today.

Today was special. It was Christmas so everyone would be going home today. They would all leave me alone to wander the castle, enjoy it's barren corners and feel out the halls I had yet to discover. I couldn't help but to smile as I saw everyone taking there belongings out to the carriages that awaited them.

I could see a few yards away Harry and Hermione talking with Ron, each one extending arms towards the other, smiles plastered on their faces. Without warning Ron turned away from them and turned towards me. HIs eyes spoke what he didn't dare say. Each word laid out in a twinkle of light that bounce off his retina. I could tell he didn't want to say it, but it was true, 'It's better that your not coming. They haven't forgiven you.' Hanging his head he turned back to the trio and swept out the gates.

'I guess I knew it already.' I thought to myself. 'I wouldn't forgive me either.'

Moving away from them I was able to make a beeline to the tunnel leading down to the right wing of the dungeons. Somewhere I had never dared venture due to the rumors I heard about the torture students would receive in coming here.

At first glance everything seemed to be in place. Just musty old walls laid around cracked concrete flooring. It bore a striking resemblance to the hallway that led to my door.

Moving down the hall I came to a point where there were three doors. One door was covered in vines, each vine hanging down and curling it's way into the center. A second door looked as if it had been fixed eight or nine times. At last there was a marble door. It shone with a startling beauty, something unforeseen in the dank halls of the dungeons. I turned away from the Marble door and went towards the door that was covered with vines.

I placed my hand on the knob and twisted it. I put as much weight as possible and cracked open the door. It budged with every push, but only slightly. With each budge my eyes were able to adjust to the inner colors of the room. There was a dark green silk color smoothed onto the walls and rusty old brown bookcases sat near the back of the room. Once the door was open all the way I took in the full aroma of the room, letting it settle the nerves that had first hit upon seeing the door. I closed my eyes, images and scents intermingling while they spun clockwise.

"It's beautiful." I hear myself exclaim. It's warmth is refreshing, and the moisture within the room creates a cooling effect, inviting me in. I move about the room, running my fingers over everything that comes into sight. I make sure I'm careful not to move anything, disturbing this room would be a crime in itself. "It's beautiful." I repeat.

"It is isn't it." Rang out a voice from the door.

I quickly jerk my body so that I am facing the body standing in the door. It isn't surprising that it would be him.

"I followed you down here," his icy tone rang out.

I didn't understand what he could possibly want, but I didn't dare ask. I just continued to stare at him. Keeping my eyes at level with his.

"You never answered me last night? You never informed me as to why you were outside listening in on what I was saying." His eyes grew increasingly smoldering as if he were enjoying every word he was saying.

I just kept staring. I'm sure answering at this point would be the smarter course of action, but I just couldn't for the words needed to express what I wanted to say.

"Quiet are we? Silence speaks truer then words I guess," he said as if he were now conversing with himself. His hands reached for the door and closed it behind him, leaving just the two of us in the room. His body moved in swift motions until he stood directly in front of me. "Your not leaving this time. Not without first explaining why you were there." He turned his face and wand towards the door and waved it right before a clicking sound was heard, indicating that the door was now locked.

I didn't know what I should say. Was I to tell him that I didn't mean to overhear what he was saying. Was I to express that it was an accident. It was of no use, he wouldn't believe me anyways. Whatever he wished to get out of me, let him. As long as he leaves quickly nothing will really bother me.

"Did your lover Potter put you up to it?" He asked reaching out an index finger to lightly stroke my chin.

"Potter." I said with distaste.

"Not a fan are we. Well if it's not him, then why were you out there Weaslet?"

I continued looking up at him. His entire body right now stood stalky, and his face stood as if it were a dolls. Beautiful porcelain skin set in and around a pair of oval shaped eyes that pierced anyone that they set eyes on, and a mouth that knew only of smirks. His hands were rough and currently too close for comfort to me.

My body started realizing his presence and acting of it's own accord. My hands wanted so badly to reach out to him. To pretend he was someone else, to accept the heat he brought and to release the pull I had that told me to let go. I could feel his breath, I could smell his scent, and without thinking I reached up to him. I didn't dare look at him as I did it, instead I pressed my eyes shut and pulled him down so that our mouths met.


	4. Chapter 4

The stories plot is pleasantly in my care and is not yours. The characters and things used taken from HP are property of JK Rowling.

**I am so happy that I received a review on the last chapter(Thank you snowfire81)! Reviews really do make my day. So please when your done enjoying the latest chapter I hope you will find it in you to drop a message !**

**-CGLW**

**Solitude...**

My hands were moving seizing little bits of his hair, pulling at it, little fragment at a time. I couldn't stop my body from responding. The problem was that he was just standing there, his body unmoving until in one full swoop he pushed me off of him. His hand came down on my side causing me to fall to the ground slumping over clutching my stomach.

It took a minute for me to gain composure, to realize that it wasn't 'him', 'he' wasn't the one I had just kissed. My mouth wanted to form an apology, but the shock was overwhelming. The feel of someone so warm, someone that matched the exact person I had been with. The one that had made my heart feel enormous happiness and even greater pain.

But this wasn't 'him'

.

I curled into a ball, trying to remove myself from the present. I couldn't bare something of this caliber yet. It was all too much. 'Too much,' something inside of me screamed. He had pushed me away in away all too similar to fragments of the past. "Enough." I whispered as my mind floated off. "enough is enough." I could feel my body loose all feeling, and once again I had slipped back into a dream state.

* * *

"_Won't you come over here? There's absolutely nothing to be afraid of."_

_My eyes lingered on him for a second, bouncing from his torso to his toes and then up to his face. His features were hardened, with imprints of fatigue outlined in the crevices of his furrowed brows. They were the same contours that had once been held with in my hand._

"_Don't be afraid Gin." He said coming over to rest his hand gently on the top of my head._

_I couldn't determine if I was to feel fearful, but my body seemed to remain calm. My face on the other hand was having a hard time adjusting to what was going on. I wondered if this was really him. The one that had made every moment spent with him one of delirious bliss._

"_I have you again. Your mine." His words sounded so assuring. His words wove a story of stability, rushing through my mind with images of happiness. A future. One where we would not be apart. I wanted to believe his words to be truth._

"_I know." I smiled up at him, and watched as his gentle face changed into one of shadows. His smile disappeared and his tone grew angry. I knew better then to second guess this change, I needed to get away._

"_Your not very smart are you Gin?" He asked his lips curling into what I could only assume was his version of a smirk. "You shouldn't blindly trust in those you don't really know." With that he kissed me. It sent fire through me, awakening every untouched point in my body. Waves of heat would reach my head causing me to loose control of my own body, and his teeth scratched away at my lips, tearing at them. _

_Just as I though I couldn't take it anymore, his arm came down on my side. It ruptured something; I could feel the pain. I could sense the heat draining from my body while everything grew cold, and distant. He pulled away from me and started to leave before rasping out "Pathetic."_

_I watched as he left. The room grew silent and my body couldn't take the pain anymore, I started to scream, the pain was all too much. Every part of me wanted it to stop, my body convulsed thrashing itself from side to side, and my arms clawed at my skin. It was all to much. All too much._

_The last thing I remember was the piercing echo that rang out after my last scream, then everything dropped into darkness._

* * *

When I opened my eyes I was met with cold wisps of air encircling my body. My eyes tried to focus in on the room, trying to absorb the colors in the hope of understanding the emotions floating about in the room. Clarity came slowly, opening me to the vibrant and smooth greens on the molded walls. 'The same greens as before,' I thought to myself relishing the feeling of something familiar. I took in a deep breath, soaking in the musty aroma in the air as I rolled over onto my back letting out a heavy sigh.

I tried not to think about the memory that had just been replayed, it would only bring me back into a state I didn't think I had the energy for. The most I could do was stare at the ceiling. The room had grown darker now allowing for the ceiling to be illuminated with dark shadows Shadows that mocked the little light left in the room, the little light I had to go by in order to see anything.

It was comforting to see my own shadow reflected above, to see that through darkness I could appear pure as a solid mass, no imperfections to be found. I found a small ounce of comfort in this notion allowing me to slowly find enough strength to sit up. I could still feel the isolated pain in my side throbbing as I sat up. I rest a hand there as my face contorted in pain and a grunt slid between my teeth.

"Are you going to explain what just happened?" Spoke an incredulous voice from behind me.

Unlike before I didn't feel the need to turn around and face him. I kept my eyes focused on a small black book just a few feet away and continued sitting in the place that I was. My hands weaved through my hair as a I tried to untangle the mess that had situated itself atop my head.

"Ignoring me last time didn't seem to help. So why is it that you think doing it a second time will end up in your favor?" Draco drawled his words came out as if he were telling a fable instead of mocking me. The problem with his drawl was the tone, it wasn't icy as usual, but it was still cold.

His words strummed the chords in the air, slowly making their way to my ears. Piercing me causing my shoulders to slump. 'I need an explanation.' I thought to myself my head moving into fifth gear. Every thought that raced through my head became less and less plausible, and the tension in the room only grew stronger. "It was a blackout." That wasn't a complete lie, it held a shred of true. It was a blackout, just in another form.

"You want me to believe that what just happened was only the result of a blackout?" He asked quizzically.

Something changed, the room's feeling grew warmer, and the air around me turned moist. Throwing my head back around to see him. I watched his face, his eyes speaking for him. Eyes displaying caution and even a strange controlled fear.

'Draco Malfoy is afraid of me.' I realized sorrow burying it's way into me. 'I really am fucked up.' My instincts belted at me, ordering me to hide.

"I don't know what it was, but it sure wasn't a blackout," his voice coming out almost in a whisper.

I didn't have words to respond with. Though his voice indicated fear there was concern somewhere in there, something I hadn't heard for a very long time. After a few moments of silence I rushed out a quick "I'm fine. It was nothing."

I needed some way to back up those words, I needed to try and show that everything that just had happened was a fluke. I pulled my legs up from under me and pushed up on my right foot. Shakily and slowly I was able to make my way to a standing position. I worked my face into what I thought was a confident looking face, something I could use to try and get out of this situation as fast as possible.

Turning my full attention towards his face I tried to smile. It seemed as if some part of my mouth was moving, but I couldn't tell if it was moving in the right direction. I had completely forgotten how to smile.

"You were screaming."

'I was?' I thought to myself quizzically. I had never really known what my body did when I fell into that dream like state, but could I have really been screaming.

"You were thrashing around."

'Could my dreams be flowing through to actual reality?'

"Your voice was shrill," he started his voice becoming faint. "As if you were being torn apart limb by limb." Suddenly a deep pained look flashed across his face.

'Stop it,' a voice in side me screamed. 'just stop.' I noticed the smile I had worked so hard to display started to fade.

"I've only ever seen that sort of pain once."

His words struck something inside of me. 'Could he possibly understand the madness brewing inside?' I could feel a pull somewhere alerting me to my increasing anxiousness pulsating through my veins.

"I understand."

I wanted to believe in his words, to seek out the truth wrapped within their syllables. Then flashing back to the memory I had just relived I realized that had been my downfall then, so how was now going to be any different. I dropped my head breaking the contact with his gaze and made a move towards the door. I could hear him stand up causing my feet to speed their pace.

I had finally reached the door and was just about completely out of the door when a hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me back into the room.

"I didn't come here to watch what just happened, I didn't come to taste filth, I came to find out why you were out there Weaslet," he said his look falling off into one of deep thought. I could see a flash of curiosity somewhere in his side turned face, but when he turned back to me it had disappeared. "I came to find out why exactly you were outside last night?"

"Coincidence," I rasped out.

"Is that so?" His tone showing the level of disbelief he had in my previous statement.

"I didn't ask you to believe me Draco."

"You don't seem to ask for much Weaslet. You seem to enjoy just taking it."

His words brought back the kiss I had placed on him earlier. My cheeks, had there been color there, would have flushed.

"Should I return the favor?" His rhetorical question followed with his hands reaching to the side of my face. His fingers were so soft upon my skin, and so warm. It was a feeling I had rarely had the chance to experience.

I didn't dare respond. This road was already a road well worn, and there was no reason to trek it once more. I pushed his hands away from my face and wiggled my way out of his reach. I couldn't leave him standing there. I knew I needed to say something. "I wasn't out there for you. I just wanted some peace. Some quiet. Solitude."

Breaking completely free I hastily exited the room. Rushing into the halls that had just given me such peace and now felt as if they were closing in on me. Pushing my way down the hall and past the doors that blocked my way, I finally reached the great hall. Thought I hated places with congregations of people, I knew that Draco couldn't bother me here. He wouldn't dare approach me. I would be free for the time being.

I went to get something to eat, not really all that hungry. I had stopped eating full meals a long time ago: food never being seen as something of pleasure but more of a mechanism to prove that I was truly still normal. Something to prove that I hadn't become the monster I had always felt growing inside.

In sitting down I was able take in how few students had stayed behind. It was abnormal to not go home for the break, and only students who had no family to go back to or whose parents were abroad stayed. 'A family not to go back to.' I thought spitefully. I knew I had no right to say much on the subject, but I did not deserve to be turned away by the only thing that had left me with some stability.

The memory was still fresh.

* * *

"_Harry, how could you?" I gasped out between breaths. Tears were straking down my cheeks as I tried to stay standing. "I trusted you," I squandered out. "So why?"_

"_Did you really think you could hide this Ginny? You're the reason their dead." He looked at me with disappointment, disgust, as if I was the one that had betrayed him. "I can't believe I ever touched you."_

"_Don't you dare say that." I didn't understand. I couldn't comprehend this, how could he go back on everything that I had gone through and taken it as if I had a choice. "I trusted you." I could feel every step I had made in digging myself out of who I was when I come here crumbling._

"_You killed them." His entire face had changed. Tears brimmed his eyes, forcing their way down his face._

'_It's not my fault.' I screamed at myself, but the truth was it was my fault._

"_I don't want to look at you. I don't want to have to see your face again. Never again. Never." _

_I could feel the tears breaking loose, staining my cheeks as my chest shook with the fury of my gasping. I had tried to believe that even after all that had happened I could still find some normality in this world. Find my place once again, but the evident truth was that I couldn't. Never was right. I would never again find my place in the world._

"_I have to tell them."_

_The shock stopped the tears in one fell swoop. "Tell them." I choked out my eyes widening as fear encompassed my entire body._

"_I have to Gin."_

_No. He couldn't. He wouldn't. This was it. This was the end. This was truly the end of what 'he' had created. 'He' was going to win._

_Harry left. I couldn't stop him. He left me laying outside in the field. I had told him what had happened the time that Bill and Charlie had come for me. I had told him in the hope that he would understand. In the hope that I could finally get it off my chest. In the hope that I could finally be whole again, and learn to love once more._

_The last step I could hear disappeared, along with all hope for myself._

Even thinking about it now it troubled me. I couldn't forget how downhill it had gone form there. I had never dared venture back home. That night I had left my home and traveled back to where I had first met the person who had destroyed it all. I couldn't find him; he wouldn't be here. I knew that. It was obvious that I wasn't going to gain anything from it. Yet, I had still ventured there. I still wanted to see him.

'You still do.' Whispered a voice within me.

'No I don't.' I whispered back, not realizing I had said it aloud. I looked up at my surroundings and realized no one had noticed. 'I've never been much of a liar.'

After a while of just pushing around my food I put my tray back on the table and muttered a simple finishing spell, which allowed for the tray to disappear. I didn't bother taking in the room, I left it be. Leaving it, I made my way back down to the dungeons. This time I wanted to go somewhere safe. Somewhere only I was aware of.

I reached the door, the dirt welcoming me home. I once again played out the ritual on the handle and then falling into the room. I wasn't looking for clarity. That wasn't what I needed right now, I just needed something familiar.

I strummed the walls with my fingers, playing on the sounds I had heard so many times over this past semester. I dug my fingers into the crevices that had been caused due to the continuing pressure of its surroundings.

I took in the smell. Allowing it to fill my senses. 'It's working.' I thought to myself allowing all the bad memories that had come to the forefront of my mind to move back. I acknowledged the sofa I so often had the privilege of its company, but it wasn't my goal. Today I wanted to go over to the chair. I had only sat in it a few times.

Each time had been a different experience from the past, but nonetheless each had been a pleasant one. Today it's what I needed. I needed pleasantry.

* * *

TBC...

I do want to note that this story progressed further into darker matter and if you are uncomfortable with heavier issues please refrain from continuing. However, I am using this portrayal to take to the extreme emotions and fears that each and every individual has or will encounter in their life. Thus I hope that you will find clarity in your own life whilst reading the rest of this story~

Thanks so much to all those that have reviewed again! 3


	5. Chapter 5

**I'd personally like to thank all of the readers that have continued to read this story and have enjoyed the story up to this point. Although this story is hard to write, due to its nature, I do find it to be a pleasant way to spend my time. I also have appreciated the warm feedback I've received from so many of you. Thanks to you all!**

**-CGLW**

**Solitude...**

My ears perked, becoming alert as I took in the lingering drips coming from across the hall. Each echo pouring into the next as they traveled in and around the crevices, under doors, and through peep holes only to find my ears. I opened my eyes and grabbed for the pillow next to me. Sleep depravation was not something I was fond of, but it seemed that I wasn't going to have a choice in the matter.

I went to the table next to my bed and reached in to grab my old rusted gold engraved locket. Turning on the lamp allowed light to cascade over the front of the locket and reveal the curvaceous letters that spelled out "Ginerva."

It was the locket I had received for my birthday when I had turned 13, just a short time before I entered my third year at Hogwarts. After the events in the chambers my mother had thought it a good idea to keep a careful eye on me, in the only way she knew how.

I opened the locket as my eyes wandered over the picture inside. It was beautiful, it was peaceful, it was my mother. She was smiling, the picture moving as she blew kisses at me. I could feel something in my gut wrench itself, as I remembered the bustle of my mother. The way she would yell in such a caring way even though she would be slaving over 4 pans and keeping Fred and George tamed. It as if you knew she only wanted the best for you, so it was never a smart idea to talk back. There was really no reason to, everything she ever did was out of love for her family.

'I let them down.' I thought to myself. 'They're better off as they are now. Off together, mouths curving into genuine smiles as the sweet rich aroma of Molly's cooking tickles their noses. Everyone would be conversing merrily as Fred and George sung Wilton Harolds Christmas songs, belting out their own versions.

This was the first Christmas I would really and truly be without family. 'Your the one that took it away.' A voice within me remarked. 'Your the one that told Harry.' I hated that I would always remind myself that it all comes back to me, but in a way it can be seen positively. Accepting ones mistakes is always one of those lessons we are told to learn in life.

Without warning a knock sounded upon my door. I couldn't believe why someone would knock on my door, no one ever knocked. Never. I didn't move. 'They will go away.'

"Gin."

I recognized this voice. I just couldn't understand how it could be coming from outside my door.

"Gin. Open up."

I knew that pretending I wasn't here would be fruitless. He knew. He always did.

"Gin. Can we talk?"

I didn't open the door. I wanted to listen. I waited in the hope that I would hear the words I so desperately wished to hear fall from his lips.

His rough tone seemed to have soften and his huskiness surfaced. "I need you."

'Need me?' The last time I remember conversing with him he made it clear that I was far from needed.

"I realize that your probably in there thinking that I have no right to be here."

'I'm not. I'm just happy you've came back.'

"I didn't want you to be sad on christmas. I can't help but to notice that you never smile."

Had he been watching. Had he noticed. 'He always notices.' piped up a small voice within me. His words were affecting me as the flowed through me slowly as I grasped their meaning. Everything that he was saying was so unexpected. It was as if it were a dream.

"I want to bring back your warmth."

I could feel myself slowly loosing control. I always did when it came to him. His power was still as strong as it was years ago.

"I miss you."

I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed at the handle and violently ripped the door open my eyes shifting around the hallway for any indication that he was their. 'There's nothing here.' I could feel my heart tearing itself apart as I grabbed at my face shielding my face.

'I'm hallucinating.' Fear rushed through me as I realized the true effect of those words. I knew that I had been unstable for quite some time, but I had never gone as far as to call myself crazy. I had always been at the point where things were in some kind of perspective, but now I wasn't so sure.

My head floated through the whispers and through the calm, making its way into the depths of wherever I was. Circling around I could feel myself growing numb. Everything once again loosing it's feeling. I couldn't do this again. I couldn't think like this. He couldn't creep into actual reality. He was only supposed to exist in my dreams. Exist in the haunting memories.

I fell to the floor collapsing into a ball as I dug my nails into my back begging for some release. Throbbing in my head came in rhythmic form, turning slowly into its very own tune. A tune best classified as torturous. My release came quicker the expected and slowly I faded into the black backdrop.

* * *

It may have been hour, I couldn't be quite sure. My eyes tried prying themselves open but were met with crust leftover from the tears that I had streaked my face. I pushed myself up into an upright position to prepare myself to stand up. 'So weak.' I thought as I tried to push myself up with the aid of the wall behind me. My legs shook, threatening to collapse under me as every bit of added pressure shot vibrating shocks throughout my entire body.

'Too much,' I though as I felt myself fall back to the ground. I reached for the corner of the wall that led into my room and pulled myself, dragging my lifeless limbs across the molding concrete. I could feel my body fighting me, thrashing at me for my continued movements.

Finally I had pulled myself back into my room. Closing the door was a bit simpler as I was now sitting right next to the door. I wrapped my fingers against a part of the door that had splintered as the paint had been scratched away. I pulled it towards me and let go as the door shut on it's own.

Minutes passed as I sat in the same space going over again and again what had just happened. Each moment seemed to become more and more far fetched.

'Forget it happened.'

Could I erase it from the present? Could it be that easy?

'You've done it before.'

My eyelids slipped down over my eyes, blocking out the light, as I forced my mind to turn to a whole new section of thoughts that were stored elsewhere. I played through past thoughts, ones where I would be sitting at the table with Harry as he talked with Ron. Times marked with purity, a time where I had been true to myself.

Slowly what had happened seemed to be clearing out of the present and sealing itself into the past. The process continued and strength made it's way back into me. I could feel its effect. I felt rejuvenated. Although I would never feel that same strength that I had once long before, but for now this was good enough.

Finally with enough power to stand I lifted my legs off of the ground. The lamp was still on, causing the room to be cast in an auburn glow. A beauty emanated from the reflections onto the walls from the locket that still lay open on my bed. Not taking my eyes off of the auburn streams that moved in every which direction, I moved towards the bed and picked it up cradling it in my hands. I glanced at it briefly before closing it and returning it to the rickety old drawer where it belonged.

I didn't stay in one place for long after realizing that today was the day that everyone was to come back to the castle. My quiet peace would soon be intruded upon by the flapped lips of the masses as they seeped into the castle, filling the halls with meaningless words and trivial thoughts. Soon my perfect little world I had lived in for the past week would disappear and I would once again have to slip back into the shadows.

I would enjoy what I had left. I wouldn't let the last precious hours go to waste.

* * *

I had already changed into new clothes and was on my way down the corridors towards the great hall. It was strange to be awake this early, seeing that it was 8 in the morning. The halls echoed with my steps and little else.

I let my hand scratch against the walls I didn't dare caress in the presence of others. Every stroke I made brought me closer to grasping the history and character that lived within these walls. The charred stones spoke in rhyme, telling me of a checkered past. Lacerations showing the harm that it had once taken, and the smooth rich knobs that pointed out the last bits of purity that it clung to.

It had been something I had decided the day after everyone left. I wanted to understand the halls, understand their histories. I always used them as my comfort away from the world, yet I never though how it could be for them. I didn't truly understand the pain that could amount in such an unlikely pace. It was comforting to know that we were one in the same.

I removed my hand from the wall and placed it at my side as I made the final stretch towards the south wing of the fourth floor. Doors were situated on either side of me but this time I didn't feel a pull. They were plain. Boring.

I moved on to the back of the wing where I found a small window. It peeked out across the courtyard. I sauntered over to it while keeping my eyes focused on the windows contours and trying to keep my eyes off of what was happening outside. I tried to ignore the pitter-patter of feet in the courtyard as students milled back into the castle.

I traced the window's panels with my thumb, caressing the mahogany wood that stood so withered under the light. Little scratches were etched along the stretches of the panels. Each panel presenting itself as a reason, as if it was purposely done to show something.

'Everything has a reason. Everything has a story.' I remember this advice I had heard so long ago. Never taking anything at its face value, because then 'you would miss so much.' Everything that appears perfect will always be flawed.

After finishing with the window I decided it best that I found my way to somewhere I knew I wouldn't be bothered. I let myself set the path towards the dungeons, something I had refrained from in the last couple of days. I had been afraid, afraid of running into Draco's questions.

Today I had no choice; it was either the dungeons or people. I choose the first option even if it meant having to deal with Draco's inquiries.

The dungeons greeted me with a warm embrace, as if it had missed me and was showing its appreciation for me. Even its protruding stench couldn't cover the warmth of the dungeons walls.

I was feeling the faintest remnant of confidence brewing in me as I continued down the hall until I reached a pass. What I had presumed to occur was indeed about to.

"Weaslet," drawled out Draco "didn't think I would see your face so soon."

My first reaction was to ignore him, to continue and pretend that the words that had just passed through his lips were tricks of the imagination. It might have worked had I not have noticed what he was holding.

Grasped in his hands was a chain. Silver in color but odd burnt red stains were sprinkled about, and a dark colored charm rested on the end of it. I recognized it at once. I couldn't take my eyes off of it. It wasn't something I had ever witnessed outside of the realm that it had existed, but here it was in front of me. Satirizing me.

His eyes followed my gaze to his necklace which he then grasped. His hands played with the charm as he proclaimed, "A present from a job well done." His entire body screamed pride, but there was something in the undertone of his words that indicated that it wasn't something he could be proud of.

I wanted to know if 'he' had really been willing to give up something that he had worked so hard to protect when I knew 'him.'

"My father. He sent it to me for Christmas." His voice stayed the same but his hands moved so that they rested in little claws at his side. "At first I thought it strange, it wasn't the most beautiful thing in the world, not elegant. Far from extravagant."

His words pushed some button that had been suppressed within me. It was as if fire exploded inside my mouth causing my mouth to burst with "It's worth more then your life." It took a second after the words had escaped to take in their full effect. It was as if I had changed in an instant. It was as if I followed in his footsteps. It had been 'his' exact words to me the first time I had seen it.

"What did you just say?" His eyes grew cold as his body froze stiff. His hands reached back up towards his waste, one hand latching onto his wand and the other resting near his other pocket.

I wanted to pretend that the words I had just said had never escaped. The reflection of his eyes became feeble as his features clouded over.

I reacted. I reacted in the one way I knew to in this situation. I cowered away. I deflected his leering eyes as I raised a hand in protection over my hardened expression. I waited for the blow. I waited for something.

"Is there a reason your standing there like a fool? I mean I know your kind has never been much for higher thought, but really to act in such a forlorn matter is quite perplexing."

I still kept my hand over the lower part of my face as I curled in my pointer finger to allow my eyes a gateway in which to watch his face. I could tell that his demeanor had changed by the fact that his eyes had once again filled with a lively countenance and his mouth had lost its linear crease.

Dropping my hand entirely I pulled myself a few steps back from him as a precaution. Nonetheless I didn't feel the need to leave so I left my feet planted in once place and continued my inquisition into his current stature.

"Weaslet, you really are a piece of work. Every time I seem to run into you, you grow more and more baffling."

I finally found the words to the question I wanted to ask. Something that had bothered me about what he had said before. "Why did your father give you that?" I said in reference to the chain extending my pinky towards the necklace before snapping it back just as quickly.

"Are you sure you could handle it?" Though there was playfulness in his tone I could tell that he was in all seriousness wondering if I wanted to get myself into this.

"Speak." It came out strange the way I said it, but it got across the point.

"Follow me." He moved first his prolonged steps causing his robes to fill out around him.

I moved behind him, making sure to stay close to the shadows that were pinned to the wall, a place of safety. Instead of keeping pace with him I fell behind to assure myself the opportunity to bail if I so desired.

In due time we reached a tunnel of sorts. It wasn't a room but it had a third wall. One that showed that it was an enclosed space. On one of the walls there was a picture. I couldn't tell of whom or what it was, but I could tell that it was wrought with old age.

On the other wall I was able to distinguish a leather pocket hanging from a rusted nail. It wasn't all that different then the leather bound books that Snape kept in his office for students reference for exams. I watched as Draco opened the pocket and pulled out small beads. They appeared exquisite.

Each bead shined in the darkness, emitting a tenor of beauty. Its pure color made me want to hold it, to lay it between my clamped hand and prolong its purity.

"This is why." He declared handing me one of the beads with slight apprehension.

Looking down at the little bead I noticed a light clouded by smoke within it. As I continued to stare a face emerged, cracked and dwindled down. It was of a man, an older man. He seemed so crestfallen and beaten down. I felt bad for the guy. "What happened to him?"

"He's dead." His voice was so matter of fact that it surprised me. I had always been under the impression that though Draco was always cold that he was at least susceptible to the stings of human regret. "He died at my hands."

"You killed him." I repeated. Thinking it over in my head I tilted my head to the sad my eyes boring into the little bead. "Did he deserve it?"

His expression turned into one of incredulity. He looked at me with a cock of his head and reached back into the pouch pulling out a few more beads. "Does anyone deserve death. Is that even a question someone with sanity could even pose? Death is never deserved."

I understood his words, I knew why he felt this way, and I had too once been under the false notion that every human deserved the chance at life. "He doesn't look to be important." I noted as I glanced once more over the old man's withered expression. "What did he do that warranted such relentless extermination?"

"How can you even tell the means by which he was killed?" He asked suspiciously.

"It's written into his face. Molded into his eyes. He didn't go down easy either. He fought you with all of his willpower, he probably even gained an upper hand but you tricked him. He fell for your trick and you used that chance to rid of him." I knew my words came across as incoherent strung together assertions.

Looking back up at him I could see it in his face that I wasn't far off. Draco looked as if I had stunned him, his body grown frigid and memorized into a state of self isolation.

"I've seen it before." I said trying to explain the reasoning behind what I had just said. I had dealt with reading faces when I had been under 'his' care. I had watched him kill innocents- many right in front of me. Their faces crying out for me to help them as I sat there emotionless and lifeless.

"You are truly extraordinary." Was all that he said before his frigid wall cracked. He looked at me trying to piece together the many facets I had allowed him a door into.

I stood in once place enjoying this interaction. It was amazing the way that I was feeling right now, it was as if I was moving back to the comfort of 'his' room and at the same time I could feel the warmth that I had received in the Burrow.

His eyes cascaded over me, hacking away at my veneer that I had so cleverly crafted. It was amusing watching as he pulled away each layer only to find another.

"Extraordinary in deed."

His words excited me. His complement though of weird pretense was one that reminded me of the way 'he' used to speak to me.

"Ginerva, truly fair indeed." The delight that radiated off of him wrapped its way around me, weaving it's way into the curves of my body. He finally stopped his movement and situated himself in an assertive stance. "To think I always overlooked you."

'Overlooked me?' I asked myself. 'Overlooked me for what.' He couldn't possibly be contemplating something so outrageous.

"Tell me Ginerva, how was it that you tore him apart?"

TBC

That concludes part 5. Thank you so much for reading thus far and I hope you will continue to read and if possible _review_.

I would like to send** special thanks** to the **comments** you guys have left so far. I couldn't be happier that you guys are enjoying it (My detail especially. I always worry that detail will distract but I love it oh so much!)


	6. Chapter 6

The stories plot is pleasantly in my care and is not yours. The characters and things used taken from HP are property of JK Rowling.

**Thank you all for reading! I would just like to forewarn that this chapter is quite graphic with violence. If that bothers you skip over the italicized part in the beginning. Chapter 6 is below! Enjoy ^_^**

**-CGLW**

**Solitude...**

_A small bread knife pressed it's way into my hands as I held onto the handle with utter disbelief. Curiosity boiled over bringing my thumb to stroke over the rigid edge. 'Not rough enough to break skin upon contact, but it wasn't so dull that it couldn't brake skin if needed.' I thought placidly._

"_Use it smartly."_

_Those had been his final words he left me with before leading me to what he had assumed would be my death. I had waited a long time dreading and wishing for this, the final moment where I would cease to exist inside this abyss. I struggled over why he was not to do it himself, especially considering the fact that he had spoke of such matters on numerous occasions. _

_He would tell me of the jarred ways he would twist my body, the slits he would create in my skins crevices, and the pain he would inflict at every corner. The thoughts had haunted me in the first couple of months I had been here, but after a while I had earned to accept it, and now I was ready to invite it. Invite him to finish what he had been so keen on starting. _

_Taking notice of the sudden movement from his moss encrusted boots as they smacked against the floor. With just a few strides he had passed through and out the door. I could feel my heart starting to race as my hands grew clammy with intrigue. He had left the dar ajar with no one guarding who came in and out. Was I to follow him, was he to lead me to my final resistance._

_Before I could even snap myself into an upright position a dark shadow emerged looming in the doorway. Covered in rich and putrid soot from head to toe, stood a sallow faced man. His eyes mirrored the scarred look in mine.. His mouth paled in what seemed to be a quiver, and his hands clutched at something._

_I finally noticed that he was holding. His fingers ensnared around it's handle, gripping it to the point that his knuckles had turned white. His entire hand started shaking as he brought it up towards his waist, and advanced towards me._

_I don't know what knobs or wheels clicked inside of me but my reactions were sharp and I was able to roll out of the way as the man toppled over. I reached for the knife that 'he' had given me and brought it up in front of me preparing for his advance._

_It only took a few seconds for him to gain his composure as he grabbed the knife off of the ground and wretched his face towards me. His eyes shown animal like, as if he were in a trance. He once again lunged at me. I had just enough time to catch his arm with my knife before slipping away once more._

_My heart was pounding almost violently so, causing bursts of heat to rise up flushing my cheeks and then once again return to its blank white sheet. I caught a glimpse of a glint in his eye as he turned around once more. Instead of lunging he just looked at me, studying me._

_I didn't know what his plan was, but I made sure to prepare myself for whatever might come. I backed myself against the wall pressing myself as far back until I could feel the sharp edges of stone scraping against my back. The entire time my eyes never breaking away from his. In one quick motion he rushed me with more haste, he had not looked at how I was positioned. He should have but he didn't. It took only a few sharp breaths but I could feel my knife plunge into him, and blood slowly trickled down, drop-by-drop._

_Something within me snapped, human nature playing up its survival instincts. I removed the knife once as I looked down into his eyes as they slowly drained of color._

'_No.' I thought once over as I caught the glimpse of scarlet weaving between the crack in the floor. 'Stop.' I tried to tell myself. _

_I couldn't hear my own cries as I brought the knife down once more, again, and again. I was ripping holes into him, as inaudible words flowed from my mouth. I swear I must have screamed. _

"_Congrats."_

_The voice that came from the doorway distracted me causing me to drop the knife._

"_You live."_

_I could see it in his eyes that his notion was drenched in deceit. In his eyes I had just signed over the remaining purity. I had another man's life stained into my hands, crusting as it burnt into me. Looking down I saw the imbroglio I had caused, a disturbing mix of strewn about crimson and scarlet scattered between bits of soot-covered flesh. _

_I could feel my insides turning, vile building up in my throat as I lurched forward. I scurried away into a corner in the far right of the room, staring at what was left of the soot-covered man. Tears poured down my cheeks as I burrowed my face in my crusted hands. Tears turned red fell to the floor, sobs creating convulsions within the walls interior._

_

* * *

_

"What makes you think I ever harmed anyone?" I questioned while trying to portray a disconcerted expression.

"Playing more games, Weaslet." His words came out in a pleasing tone, as they swept over me bristling the hair on my arm. His feet moved in sharp movement until he stood in front of me his hand reaching out to grab at the back of my neck. "Did you slice him good?"

His words, though direct, were still all the more piercing. Images started flashing within my head and I could feel myself falling once more. I could feel myself draining as I remembered the scarlet splattered soot that had melded into the cracks.

Shaking me back to the present, Draco's hands grabbed at my shoulders bringing me into him. Holding me in his embrace as he whispered. What, I couldn't tell you but he was whispering words nonetheless. My body cooperated with him, relying on his strength and using him to prop myself up.

His warmth encircled me, creating a fierce hunger within me clinging to him. Still stuck within the barriers of the dream state and reality I suddenly felt something touch my forehead. Venturing a guess, I believed it to be Draco's lips upon my forehead. I could still hear him trying to say something, but the words were muddled and allusive.

My body was working of it's own accord now, completely separate from my mind. I could feel my hands moving around Draco's waist but couldn't fully comprehend why or how I was doing it. My head stretched itself up towards Draco expectantly.

Nothing happened.

Moments passed as we stayed glued in this position, and with a force I felt myself smash back into myself, growing sensation, feeling the exertion, and experiencing the pain. It would have been too much, it would have been had it not been for Draco's reassuring hold on me.

"Another blackout?" He mocked.

'Not quite.' I thought to myself, 'I have you to thank for that.' I knew words wouldn't fit the situation so I looked at him, trying my best to actually put forth a real smile. It was awkward at first; trying to express such foreign emotions in a way I didn't even understand the mechanics. But it was all right because he was holding me. I wasn't going to fall. It would be all right. At least for now.

* * *

After ending my encounter with Draco I had decided it a good idea to go back towards the towers. It was late enough that people would be in the dining hall rejoicing at once again seeing friends and loved ones, allowing me to slip through the cracks unnoticed.

The journey up to the tower somehow felt different then usual. I couldn't place the change, nor could I distinguish what could have caused it. It was as if time stood still after I completed every moment, allowing thoughts to creep into my head. Thoughts of gracefulness, thoughts of melancholy beauty plagued with gratuitous shortcomings, all woven together to shape a form. It was one that had passed across my eyes many times before, the person that I had hated and loved.

Each step left their mark on his figure, a slip of his tongue, a hair out of place, a hand rough and scratchy upon my skin. Each one ingrained into their respected section, each one growing all the more closer to reality.

Before I knew it I had reached the portrait hole. Shaking off the strenuous thoughts I softly spoke the password and slipped through the hole and into the tower. It was only a few minutes past eight, and the night still felt young. I peered around the common room looking for signs of others. In the corner next to the white sofa's sat three girls, giggling as they chit-chatted. Other then that the common room was fairly barren, quite like this last week.

Making my way to the red velvet sofa in front of the fire I outstretched my legs and peered into the flames. Rubescent and glowing the flames bounced across the crackling wood, each one taking on a life of it's own. I could feel the effect it was having on me, slowly causing a lethargic feeling to take over. My eyelids closed and slumber took me into its embrace.

* * *

_Time held no notion of actuality, it wasn't meant to. The only thing time had to show for itself was the notion that things change. A deep contradiction to what is conceived of actuality. So why was it that he never seemed to change. Why was it that his actuality always stood stagnant._

_It was only a guess but it must have been at least three months into my stay so far. Every day evolved into minor inflictions that wrought with an overzealous nature. _

_Each day he would sweep in and sweep out displaying his reigning hold, and showing the power he had over me. It had been something that had grown habitual, something that had come to comfort me. I was able to make peace with myself that him coming was no longer a surprise and instead could be expected. Normally this was enough to dig myself out of whatever entrenchment he was to put me in come any particular day._

_This week had been out of the ordinary. He had only come two of what I had guessed to be 5 days. Each day left me with a guilty longing to which I could only attribute to him. The thought had revolted me at first, causing self-loathing words to spew from my mouth, encompassed in shrieks that rattled the stone brick walls._

_By the third day I couldn't have cared less the reason for what burned inside of me, all I wanted was for his return. It had grown obvious to me my attachment to him. Thinking back on what had occurred in the last three months it wasn't as fully implausible as my mind had set it out to be based upon the events that had taken place._

_The many moments in which I would be next to him, taking in his scent as he would whisper things to me. Though grotesque in nature, fear had long time passed and been replaced with intrigue. _

_Today again it had been several hours since he had made his presence known. He had yet to saunter in, his scent from two days ago slowly disintegrating._

_Growing anxious I started fiddling with my thumbs as I pressed my toes into the cold cement. Each and every second passed by with increasing feelings of animosity and longing. They both built up until I couldn't take it much longer; placing my feet solidly on the ground I traipsed my way over to the door and pounded on it screaming, "Why?"_

_I could hear movement outside the door and this time the door was wrenched open. Standing there was not someone I had ever expected to see. Silver cascading hair fell out from under a withered ponytail holder, as he brought himself into the room. His face was frozen in a solid form as his pursed lips quivered. He placed a hand on the door to shut it, and then turned back to me._

_He looked me over once and then took out his wand._

"_Your name?"_

_I didn't know what to make of this encounter; I had always known what side he had placed himself with, but still. He had been the reason I had even met 'him' in the first place. Thinking it better to speak then to withhold I stammered out the first part of my name, "Giner..."_

_After I had said the first five letters of my name I saw his eyes light up. It was as if he couldn't actually see who I was. How could he not recognize who I was, I couldn't have changed that much. I couldn't have._

"_Ginerva Weasley." He exclaimed with prowess. "To think even something as grungy as you had been could become even more disdainful." _

_I watched in awe as he made his way around the room encircling me. His entire being racked my body with mystifying perturbation. I could feel my hands reach up to grasp at my torn shirt as I clung to myself._

"_Stop it." I whispered._

_His words stopped. His movement stopped as well. It only took a few seconds but he had come to a complete halt. A moment of pure silence rang out before a lard crack whipped through the room and I felt my body foist itself onto the floor, my limbs flailing about._

_He must have brought out his wand, it was the only way that this was possible. I couldn't be sure of anything as my body soon became numb, making every one of my motions those of a third person's. I couldn't separate myself; it seemed almost impossible that this was so. I was terrified. I wanted 'him.'_

'_He' would protect me._

_Wouldn't 'he?'_

_

* * *

_

Feeling something on my shoulder I broke from my confounded nightmare with a jolt. My hands immediately made their way to my face where I noticed a small limber hand resting all too near.

"Are you alright?" she beseeched.

I didn't dare look in her eyes. There would only be lingering questions. Worse yet, there might even be the fear-clouded eyes that had once met mine the nights I had stayed in the burrow.

I moved to get up. Away from this petite figure as I slowly chastised myself for making such a novice mistake. Without a look back at her I sprinted for the staircase, not bothering to look at the quizzical and judgmental stares that bore into my back.

It took very few seconds to get to my door, which I plowed through in some hope of a clean escape. Once inside I felt myself grow uneasy once realizing all to fast that I had just made myself a public spectacle. On the one hand I wanted to believe that it didn't matter, that their words could have no effect on me. But it was purposeless. I had grown all too weak over time, not even able to speak words that could battle the misconstrued notions that were forming and cementing themselves into their subconscious.

I could feel a surge of trepidation surfacing. In a quick response my hand reached around to my neck just in time to stop a scream from emitting itself. Rushing to my bedside I reached for a pillow and covered my face screaming into it continuously a single name.

"Ginerva."

It was my fault after all. I had shattered the blockade that had confined me to the single notion of caution above all else. Once he had breached it, I had let my guard down and opened myself to unrealistic perspectives. Loathing filtered through me, creating pulsating repetitions from the heart to seize my body.

Soon I felt calm melt over me causing my body to grow normal once more. Rationality, or what I knew of it, broke through my thoughts and brought to light that there might be some good in this situation. Maybe there could be a silver lining amongst the many horrid outcomes that were floating aimlessly through my mind.

'A silver lining' I thought to myself chortling. Something that even a few days ago I would have sworn on my life had been nonexistent had now just crossed my mind. I found it in myself to relish the idea and try to bring back that distant notion of passion for a positive outcome.

I slipped under the pleated covers. Curling into a ball and holding my knees as I they pushed into my chest, sleep took over and I once again ceased to take part in the current reality. Removed. Distant. Peace.

* * *

TBC...

Ok so I know I ended this chapter a little bit weird but it is a cliffhanger in what it marks. I really am in love with this story and almost had a hard time writing this chapter due to it's nature but now am very pleased with the end result.

I would love feedback and to know readers remarks. Silent readers are welcome but I hope you will find it in your heart to leave a message.

I would also love to hear where you guys think this is going (I have the end already so it's more of interest than anything else.)

**These last words mark the end of chapter 6!**


	7. Chapter 7

The stories plot is pleasantly in my care and is not yours. The characters and things used taken from HP are property of JK Rowling.

**Author Update**

Hello everyone! I am really sorry for the gap between now my last update. Unfortunately, things have been really hectic! However, I have great news: new chapter is now up! I plan on aiming to finish this story by Feb or March of 2011. As of now I believe that the story will take roughly 15-20 chapters, so I'll be trying to upload 4 chapters per month~ I also want to send a special thanks to all those that review. The reason I'm coming back to this story is because of **you**! Your support really means a lot!

Special thanks to the following wonderful reviewers: aRebel aSaint, padmeani8, Bewitched Nightwalker, FreezingFire81, & tomfeltonsgirl.

**-CGLW**

**Solitude...**

Chapter 7

Over the next week, moving through the halls became a burden; everywhere murmurs and manifested stares bore into me-gone was my once veiled existence.

The worst of the silent taunting reared its head during classes.

Walking into potions the following morning, I quickly found an empty seat. There was still about ten minutes before class would start, so I pulled out my potions book opening to "Borges Brewed Delectable's." I tried to act as though I was focused on the text, when, in fact, I was acutely attuned to each and every student as they entered. Hushed whisper filled the room; each word spilling from their mouths and burrowing into me, piercing my ears. A snarky '_Unhinged.' A mocking 'Disturbed.' A pitying, 'Rocky.' _As students filtered in, their explanations for my actions grew increasingly vile.

'You brought this on yourself,' I chided 'you, and only you, are to blame.'

Hanging my head low in frustration I stared more intently at the words hoping that Snape would finish with whatever was delaying him. I knew that my eyes read panic and, thus, I kept my vision focused on my book, not even taking notice when a warm body slid into the seat beside me. A slow snicker let loose and a hand slipped across my desk pushing the book to fall to the floor.

I didn't bother to look up, knowing that I was safer just picking the book back up. Reaching down, I curled my fingers along its edge before something pierced my hand. My eyes quickly darted to see the culprit of the pain; a black leather sole shined to perfection with its laces tied tightly, most likely belonging to a female.

"I'm so sorry." Jeered Anna. "I must have not seen your hand," she said feigning innocence while following up in a more accusatory tone "but please no need to scream."

I could feel her eyes boring into the back of my head, waiting for any reaction. But her words didn't affect me. From all those months being locked away, I had learned appropriate decorum, which included who I was obliged to show proper reactions to. She didn't conform to any of the typical characteristics, and thus, with ease, I feigned ignorance while extending my reach in order to grasp my book. Once I had secured it within my grip, I brought it back onto my desk. At that same moment Snape walked into the room. Taking out my quill and a piece of parchment, I proceeded to take down what Snape wrote on the bored relishing the quietude his presence brought.

* * *

Throughout the following week the murmurs died down, and I was able to slip through the halls more peacefully. With all the commotion that had come from my stint in the common room, it felt good to be able to return to this peace. Even if fear would eventually overwhelm my peace, I wouldn't need to explain myself to anyone. 'Except Draco.' I thought as his actions flashed through my mind. His arms wrapped around me, cradling me, as his lips lingered, just barely brushing, above my furrowed eyebrows.

I couldn't push down the emotions that had swelled within me from when he had showed me such commiserated compassion. Every day the scene played itself out, the emotions rushing full force, producing a yearning temptation to feel the support of his embrace. 'No.' I internally bellowed. 'Control,' I repeated in a small loop, 'regain control.' I knew I couldn't fall back into accepting dependence.' Pushing the thoughts deep within, removing them from my conscious, I moved back down into the corridor towards the dining hall.

* * *

After grabbing my food I found an empty table towards the Ravenclaw's section and sat myself down. For the first time in a long while, curiosity bested me and I found myself doing a sweep of the room. I accidentally caught Harry's eye as he looked at me; pity and mockery mixed together to pin me in place. His face contorted into a grimace, and he made a motion as though beckoning me.

I darted my eyes away quickly hoping that Harry would take the hint that his support was both unwanted and unappreciated. The moment the information I had entrusted him with had made its way to my entire family, I had ceased to believe in Harry's support.

As my eyes refocused, I realized that I was now gazing at Malfoy. He sat alone at the Slytherin table mouthing disconcerting speech. I watched as his hands clenched his fork, stabbing at his plate, his body heaving to emit a sigh.

Seeing his hands, I could imagine his thumb grazing my cheek as his other hand cupped my chin. Craving devoured my composure as internal alarms signaled fear, causing "Stop it" to pass through my lips audibly louder then I had intended. Malfoy's touch wasn't what my body ached for. It wasn't what my body longed for. Malfoy's appeal was due solely to the roughness he employed in handling me, the kind of roughness that 'he' had employed after I had undergone particularly violent bouts leaving my body blackened.

Drifting into past thoughts of when 'he' had held me, I found an inner sanctuary of sustenance. 'His' scarred hands roughly stroked the side of my enflamed cheek, as he held me to his chest. His body heat encircled me as his tight grip provided requisite support. His coos entranced the little mind I had left. Although I had only been semi-conscious at the time, the memory had none-the-less stuck.

Feeling my conscious fall back into the great hall I could feel a slight smile spread across my face. Unfortunately I had kept my gaze on Malfoy, who was now sneering at me. His eyebrows rose slightly and I felt my slight smile quickly vanish. I didn't break my stare; instead narrowing my eyes I gave him, what I hoped was, a piercing glare. His smile only widened before he broke eye contact, picked up his plate, and exited the great hall.

His departure caused my body to involuntarily lurch, hoping to force his return. My mind knew better, but my body wasn't convinced. It wanted to feel 'his' touch. It wanted the pleasure that had every so often infiltrated the pain. I brought my concentration back on finishing my meal, doing my best to calm my breathing and push out the emotions that had engulfed every fiber of my body.

* * *

Taking my usual nightly stroll back down to the dungeons I was still unable to shake Malfoy. It was sick the way that such simple actions could easily take control of my body. I needed it to end. I needed to force my body to recognize that Malfoy was not 'him.'

As I rounded the west wings southern corner, I turned back towards the route to the Slytherin commons. I would find him. I would prove that there was a difference.

As I sauntered through the corridor to the Slytherin common room, I heard footsteps echo from behind, causing me to quicken my pace. The footsteps grew near and I had no choice but to duck into a man sized crevice. Pressing my body against the side of the wall, I heard Malfoy's voice carry through the corridor.

'Talking to himself again?' I wondered in incredulity as I peered out waiting for his form to present itself.

"Draco?" Drawled a silky feminine whine. A small clatter followed by a rough groan, clearly indicated that he was indeed not alone.

I waited patiently, knowing full well that 'he' had considered me to be his and never sought out another. I waited to hear Malfoy push her back, hear a crack as he would force her to fall to the ground. But nothing came.

Finally after an indeterminate amount of silence, a second groan filtered into the crevice filling my senses, disgust rising quickly within me. As I pushed back into the cold jagged rock trying to escape their sounds, a small tunnel materialized. Following the tunnel back until the sounds failed to assault my ears, I finally stop and sat for a second relishing the silence. Realizing I couldn't go back out the way I came, I glanced towards the other end of the tunnel, where I could see a faint light dimly glowing. Bringing my feet back under me I continued to move down the tunnel and towards the light.

Reaching the end of the tunnel, I found that the source of the light had come from a tiny window from within an abandoned room. I peeked my head out of the tunnel taking in the room before actually entering it. It had dark ivy colored sheets covering various blocks, which I could only guess was furniture, while the walls were painted a rich black with silver trim. Along the left hand of the room, a painting of a basilisk poised to attack its prey hung slightly crooked. Beside that one decoration, the room felt bare. Empty. Completely abandoned.

Pushing my way into the room, I was immediately drawn to the wall furthest from the window. Peering at one of the sheets, I slowly reached out a hand pulling it back to reveal a wooden desk with papers strewn about. Staring down at the handwriting I recognized it at once. Scrawled across ivory colored pages, that had etched its way into my memories, it was 'his.' I was sure of it.

Picking up one of the pieces I read over the untidy scribbles. 'Pieces to a puzzle' was the only way to describe the words that littered these pages. What looked like spells mixed with potion recipes, were placed below mathematical equations that simply made no sense. Dropping the papers I moved onto the drawers. Pulling out the smallest drawer, I found a few more papers with a quill resting on top. In the second drawer I found something I never would have imagined to find.

Lightly placing my forefinger and thumb together to grab the object, I pulled it to rest in front of my face. The grooves were identical to the ones I had seen. The small bit of writing on the left corner was written in the same curved script, and the color, too, was identical. I kept the object in front of me as I moved over to a covered chair and sank -down, remembering when I had first seen this object.

* * *

_I had been told to wait, and so I waited. I found my new surroundings rather peculiar; I had seldom been allowed outside the confines of my cage unless I was called to attend a meeting. Never before had I been placed in a room of this sophistication. The walls had a luxurious feel, but the 16__th__ century furniture was what sealed in the bizarreness of my current situation. _

_In the center of the room a four-poster bed protruded from the wall. The mahogany wood of the bed reflected the room's light in such a way that it cascaded warmth. The bed itself was covered in muted silver sheets and ivy colored pillows that littered the headboard. On the left side of the room two chairs sat opposite one another, between them rested a seemingly unused tea set sitting atop a 18__th__ century version of a coffee table. On the side where I was currently sitting, trinkets littered a small table pushed back against the wall. I could only assume 'he' preferred silver as each and every trinket looked to be silver, but one. _

_The sole gold trinket was shaped to combine both a serpent and a man. It held a close resemblance of the artifacts found in the Egyptian tombs I had visited with my family. Looking at the etchings on the side cursive script formed: "Nehebkau." Moving away from the script I ran my hands over the various groves carved into the gold trinket, finding a few jagged pieces where parts had fallen off. _

_Without warning, my investigation of the object was halted as the door sprung open. I placed the trinket within my robe, trying to conceal it._

'_He' walked over to the chairs opposite me and sat down. Brining his wand up he muttered something under his breath, twitched his wand, and then lifted the teapot. He poured the hot liquid into the glass in front of him and then into the one in front of the empty chair, silently beckoning me over. I complied, briskly moving across the room and waiting for his cue allowing me to sit. He raised his glass to his lips, taking a small sip. His face was softer then usual, the dark creases that caked his face looked to have disappeared._

"_Sit." He stated. His voice missing it's usual admonishing tone._

_I took my seat, unease swelling up inside of me. Every twitch of his hand caused me to recoil in fear, waiting for his attack. It never came. He finally looked straight at me with placatory eyes. "Ginerva," slipped from his lips his mouth turned into a straight line. I must have been mistaken, but I swear I could sense a hint of affection. As quickly as it came, it soon disappeared and he went back to sipping his tea._

_There was something completely wrong about our current situation. The months I had stayed under had created a formal servitude bond. I was to serve him, meet his needs, and I would be allowed to live. Yet, as I sat across from him I felt as though we were now equal. He wasn't towering over me, he was simply looking straight at me. I couldn't help but shake the impending terror that would result from this abnormality._

"_Why so frightened?" He questioned, a bit of humor lining his words._

_His words made no sense. 'I've been taught to frighten you. You've called it my duty to act as such.' I thought bitterly to myself. Instead of answering I clamped my hands together and lowered my eyes from his face. _

"_You've no idea why I've called you here, have you?" He mocked setting his tea cup down. "You've no idea why I would let you into my own sanctuary?"_

_Without raising my head I could feel myself come over with shock. 'His.' I stuttered. 'his sanctuary. Why would he allow me in here?'_

"_You've been down there for some time now." He calmly remarked._

_All I could manage out was a simple "so?"_

_He didn't take to kindly to my words, taking my hand in his face and pulled my chin forward. I could feel the strain in my shoulders as he pulled me forward. My body calmed, recognizing that he was going to enact his usual onslaught. My eyes glazed over and I prepared to numb myself. Without warning he brought his hand up to stroke a hair back from my face. His hand moved from my hair down to my cheeks, and then over my lips. Once again I could feel my blood boiling as fear gripped me._

_He finally stood up bringing me with him. He moved me towards the wall keeping one hand poised along the side of my face. I didn't understand what was going on. The heat that resonated from him, the electricity of his touch, it was all too much._

_Pushing up against the wall I could feel his weight holding me down. Staring up at him, my eyes grew wider. My mouth parted slightly before…_

_

* * *

_

"What exactly do you think your doing Weaslet?" bellowed out a voice breaking my concentration, thrusting my conscious back into the abandoned room. Opening my eyes, I could make out Malfoy standing towards where the tunnel entered the room. Folding my hands over the trinket I brought myself to a standing position, ignoring him completely.

"I asked you a question Weaslet. It would be smartest of you to avoid your previous mistakes of ignoring me." He proceeded to descend upon me.

I quickly sidestepped him, moving back towards the center of the room. I didn't quite understand where he got off asking what I was doing here. This room was 'his,' I was 'his,' thus it felt only right that I should be here. Holding the trinket tight, I placed it into my robe's pocket.

"Or were you looking for a secret meeting place to gaze upon yours truly." He gritted out through a clenched jaw. He circled me, trying to catch my attention but I had no interest in playing his game. I had successfully separated him from 'him.' I wasn't in his control.

"This room is sacred." Mafoy continued, "you ought not to tarnish 'him' any further than you already have."

Anger at his words piqued somewhere below, but refused to come to the surface. I simply stared at him my voice steady as I let loose with "Your family is responsible for tarnishing his name far more than anything I have or could do." I knew, the Malfoy's weakest point were there pride, especially Lucius Malfoy.

I watched as his eyes clouded over and his mouth tightened. Before he could react further I continued, "Your father disobeyed." Malfoy stayed still. "But you knew that didn't you."

Malfoy just stared at me, bewilderment taking over his expression. 'That's right,' I thought internally, 'you're not as strong as you think you are.'

I turned my back to him, knowing that what I was about to reveal would test his own resolve. "You were made to sacrifice, were you not Malfoy?"

"What exactly do you think you know, Weaslet?" He growled.

"How's your mother?" I asked indifferently.

Before I could react I could feel Malfoy's arms. He had an arm pinned against my necked as he brought his wand out pointing at my chin. I couldn't help myself; I chuckled. 'It was all too easy.'

"Don't speak of things you don't understand." He admonished hotly.

"I understand." I replied narrowing my eyes. "I understand completely." At my words his arm loosened and I broke free. Turning towards him I met his eyes, "You were forced to sacrifice your mother." I paused letting the words pierce the air, until silence set back in. I dropped my eyes from his before stating shakily, "I too disobeyed. I too sacrificed."

Malfoy didn't move. He didn't speak. He just stood there until I looked at him. Once I had met his eyes again he stated, "so, the rumors were true?"

Not knowing if we referring to the same thing, I decided to press the issue. "It's strange how I'm never surrounded by my family isn't it?" Choking on my words, I swallowed hard before continuing. "Strange that I'm the only one who doesn't return home for Christmas."

Draco moved slightly closer to me, reaching out a hand before quickly snapping it back to rest at his side. "So you killed them?" he questioned softly.

The anguish that had eaten away at me for the many decisions I had made last summer came rushing back in. I wasn't sad- I was annoyed. Deeply annoyed. Annoyed that I had been stupid enough to trust _Potter. _"Yes." I stated slowly, "Charlie and Bill Weasley died at my hands."

* * *

Ah, thank you so much for reading up to this point! I'm going to leave you with a cliffhanger ^w^

I would love feedback and to know your thoughts! Silent readers are welcome but I hope you will find it in your heart to leave a message. I'd love to know your thoughts on events within the story or general writing style comments~ ^_^

**This marks the end of Chapter 7~**

.


	8. Chapter 8

The stories plot is pleasantly in my care and is not yours. The characters and things used taken from HP are property of JK Rowling.

**Author Update**

I hope that you all will enjoy this enormously long chapter. It is key to the stories plot, but it isn't children friendly so please do be advised.

**-CGLW**

**Solitude...**

Looking back on things, I knew there was a time when I felt true remorse; racked with guilt over killing Bill and Charlie. But as time went on, I was brought deeper and deeper into 'his' world. Barely living, being forced to survive; it was all I could manage—survival. When you go for days without being able to eat, weeks without smelling anything but rotting carcasses, you learn to accept certain things. You learn to recognize your position, and how you can ensure making it to the next day.

But that's not completely true. I knew it. I just hated realizing that I had made the decision. Made it so easily.

_I had been down in my cage, completely cut off for what felt like weeks- later finding out it had been a mere eight days. Looking towards a small slit in the back of my cage, I took notice as light drifted in, indicating that the sun had once again risen. Lifting my fingers up, staring as the light reflected off of my dirt-encrusted nails, I tried to remember what my fingers had once looked like. 'What had I looked like before?' I contemplated trying to envision my once-effervescent self._

_As hard as I tried to remember, my present had taken over my conscious and my subconscious—what I once was no longer could surface; it was buried away too deep to surface. I couldn't remember who I was. I only know who I am. _

_I pulled my fingers back placing them back in my lap as I looked out my cage's front. I tried to see something, anything but what was in my cage. I pressed my stress-wrought face between the bars, trying to see if I could catch a glimpse. Nothing moved. There was no sound. There only existed the waft of rotting flesh mixed with the staleness radiating off the walls. _

_Falling back into my cage, I gave up my search for life. 'This would be another day void of physical heat." I whispered, pulling at my shirt trying to stretch the fabric so it would cover more of my torso. As I proceeded to try and do the same with my pants, I heard a click. Whipping my head around I moved back to the cages front bars and tried to see who was coming. Once I saw the bushy black hair, I knew I should hide. I could feel a fire burn in my chest; it told me to run, hide-become invisible._

_I watched silently as the gate opened and the bushy black hair man pushed his way into my cage._

"_Virginia?" He questioned slightly moving towards me._

_I looked up at him. There had been very few occasions where this man had come down to meet me: the first was when I went through my first Death Eaters meeting where I was tortured for three hours straight—forced to remember every second as Lucius had so graciously placed a clarity spell that made sure I couldn't pass out from the pain. The second time had been before I was dressed to meet with 'him' outside the confines of my cage—only to find that I was to be used as a play toy for the next couple of hours by death eaters once more when 'he' had decided to attend to another matter. The third time had been just over a month ago. I had heard news that I would be able to attend a formal function hosted in his 'honor.'_

_-/-_

_I had been provided appropriate garb, allowed minimal cleansing—mostly to ensure that I did not smell—and was ushered into a room. I had never seen such horrors as I did that night. The room was filled with women, men, all gallivanting about without any notice of the Muggles that were cast about on the floor, chained, bloody, and bruised. I had gasped, my mouth forming a single oval. 'He' had come to collect me and brought me to a back room of sorts. We passed through magnesium colored velvet curtains into a room filled with a few men all gathered around a table._

"_Leave." 'He' had demanded, quickly clearing the room of anyone but himself and I._

_I had grown somewhat accustomed to spending one-on-one time with him. I had been brought up biweekly to his study, and once or twice to a guest rom. I had, as he put it, 'the pleasure of his company.' It had become strange, the few words that passed at first made me fidget worried that I would aggravate him, but later we would…talk. Yes, talk. That's the only way to properly describe it. We wouldn't talk in the way that I had spoken with Fred or Hermione, but it was still talking. _

'_He' had taken my hand that night, grasping me harshly at the waste with his other hand. I hadn't expected him to move so quickly to this stage. I kept my eyes steady on him, staring into his eyes trying to evoke something out of him. He had curled a finger under my chin, pulling me closer to him. Something within me snapped, and I could feel something break and I let go. My body had responded to him, preparing mentally for his forthcoming touch. Fighting seemed pointless. _

_That night he had pulled back. He had moved back drawing his wand and pointing it at my agitated state. Without proper notice sparks flew from the tip and I could feel as I was torn apart, my body convulsing in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He came back to stand over me, putting his knees on the table straddling me as he pulled me up by my hair. I couldn't scream, I couldn't cry, all I could do was growl. Low guttural growls escaped my mouth my eyes staring back at him terror flashing in and out just as quickly as lust followed._

_That night he had finished me. He had done what he had talked of so many times, and the memory had yet to escape me. Part of me had invited his approach, while the little girl that had once resided inside had finally perished—disgusted with what I had become. I had truly changed, it was official: I no longer was Ginerva Weasley. I was 'his.'_

_-/-_

_So now I stood once again facing the brown bushy haired man, unaware of what lay outside my cage's walls for me. _

"_Virginia?" He questioned again, this time grabbing at my arm. This man had little patience for me, hating when I kept silent. "Answer when you are spoken to."_

"_Yes." I mouthed, trying to form the sounds that wouldn't come. _

"_I guess they've forgotten to feed you." He stated matter of fact, showing no expression of empathy. "Well be that as it may, we have other things to attend to," he filtered off throwing a white silk robe at me. "Put this on. I will be waiting at the tunnels entrance for you. I expect you there within three minutes."_

_I pulled my shirt over my head while stepping on the edges of my pants leg removing my clothes before slowly sliding into the robe. It was softer than anything else I had been given previously. It was also far more elegant with its off-white ivory base color with pearl white trim lining the bottom and the cuffs. Pulling the robe fully over my body, I silently enjoyed the caress of the satin on my tattered skin. I ran my fingers down the sides, fully aware that I had left full black smudges down the side._

_Heading out into the corridor, I cautiously looked around realizing how bare the cages had become. 'More defeated' I thought callously. Reaching the end of the corridor I was once again faced with the bushy brown haired man. He waved his wand in my direction, first straightening my hair and then sealing a violent shade of ruby red into my lips. He waved his wand again, finally removing the specks of dirt that had burrowed in my skin. He beckoned me forward, and I followed close behind him as we entered the main part of—well wherever it was that we were. I tried to gage the noise level, to try and guess at what I might face today._

_Before I could fully grasp the multitude of sounds coming from the main hall, I heard a crack and a door opened widely. I walked in slowly, trying my hardest to adjust to the lighting. Looking up towards a faint light in the back of the room, I saw 'him' sitting there, his hands clasping the arms of his chair. An unusual smile, all-be-it faint, crept up as he saw me walk in. I felt something within me react to his roaming eyes, pulling me forward as I glided over to stand in front of him. Looking up at him, I could feel parts of me igniting, roaring with a burning sensation to feel his heat once more. _

"_Come." He commanded, while patting at his knee. I moved forward involuntarily, my physical need taking over. I fell into his lap and immediately felt memories of pain and pleasure wash over me. Staring out at the darkness of the room I felt rough hands slither across my shoulders before his fingers danced along the sides of my neck, until he cupped it. It took only a second, but soon my airway was constricted. I didn't fight him; it would be pointless. I was playing his game, and he would play it his way. _

_I could feel my body becoming lightweight as I drifted into a semiconscious state, barely able to feel his touch. It was a euphoric state to say the least: completely painless, void of harsh sound, filled only with a looped echo. Before I could fully rest into my euphoric state, I was brought back into my body gasping for air. The days without food or water made it harder to open my airways-my esophagus dry and scratchy. _

_Regaining sight of where I was I could feel that I had been moved. My legs now rested so that I was straddling him in the same chair, my legs falling through the back of the chair. His gaze singled in on me, purring slightly before nipping at my lip. I couldn't help but let out a soft moan as he bit down, followed by the sweet caress of his tongue. Without breaking his gaze, he put a hand on my back before pulling me closer so he could whisper in my ear. His mouth closed around my ear, slowly grazing it with his teeth as he inquired, "would you like your special present again?" _

_I could no longer see his eyes; only feel his warm breath as he lightly panted into my ear. I could feel my excitement growing, and ever part of my body was aching to relive that lost pleasure. I nodded yes as I burrowed my head into the nook of his neck, brushing up against his unshaven skin. _

"_I'm not sure I heard you," he said continuing his attack on my ear._

_I had never imagined this point. Where I would beg for it. Where I would succumb to whatever this was, but I did. "Please." I mouthed pressing my body into his._

"_As you wish." He said breaking away from my ear and bringing his wand out again. It took less time to pulsate through me this time. My body was met with piercing pain as what felt like jagged knives were dragged along my forearm and up my thighs. I lurched back, unable to control it. Once the knives stopped, warmth spread throughout me and I was now on fire, my cheeks were hot, my chest felt constricted, and I could barely stand the ache that burrowed deep within from causing me to fall into unconscious. _

_Just as I adjusted to the curse, he lifted it. Looking at me with a sly grin, he pulled my head back towards him. "Do you want your full present?" He questioned, loud enough to fill the room._

_My cheeks burned in embarrassment as I realized to what extent I needed his touch. I bravely lifted myself farther up on him, brining my mouth to his own ear before whispering, "I need it." I didn't move, before following up with. "I need you."_

_He complied with my request, reinstating the curse before exploring me. Tasting me. His hands scratched at my flesh, drawing blood in places and bruising in others. His touch electrified as I continued to move under him feeling my body fill with an uncontrollable urge to explode. I felt my body fully give in, just before he pulled away. _

_Leaving me partially exposed on top the frigid stone, my skin seared with pain as he made his sauntered back towards his throne. A small curvature of his lips solidified my assumption: he wouldn't let it end this quickly because 'he' wouldn't find it as amusing. Staring out at him, my body became fully consumed by the spell, my conscious threatening to flee into hibernation. _

_With the release from the spell, I fell into darkness._

_I was unsure how long I had lain unconsciously on the hard floor, only knowing that each and every nook and cranny of my body felt tender. Slowly slipping back into consciousness, I moved my fingers across my left side trying to cease the violent current from passing through me. Trying to pull out from the paralysis, I wasn't sure whether I should open my eyes or whether I should keep them closed, resisting the need to see if he had stayed._

_Curiosity bested me as I peered out from under heavy lids. The seat where he had sat before was now vacated, the light illuminating the emptiness that started to filter through me. It was a sad fact that I felt this need for him— that I believed I needed 'him' above all else. Forcing my lids to cover my eyes, I tried to build a false sense of reality envisioning his presence._

"_Your awake." A hollow voice stated simply, the words echoing off the mossy walls._

_My eyes flashed open at the sound of the voice, darting to different areas trying to figure out its origin. Still slightly disoriented, the buzzing within my ears stifled the words. Realizing the harsh ambiguity of my current situation, my fight-flight instinct kicked in, panic funneling adrenaline throughout my system, pushing me to try and sit up. Pushing up on my elbows the full extent of my exhaustion set in forcing my arms to give out and fall back towards the ground. Before making contact with the stones, a hand slipped under me resting between my shoulder blades._

"_So weak, so soon." The voice drawled mockingly._

_He was not wrong; I was exhausted. I could feel the drain from overexerting myself take a toll on my physical and mental state, but apart of me still wished it hadn't stopped._

"_I believe you need another dose. A second present?"_

_It took a moment before I realized who the voice belonged to, but his choice of words led me to only one conclusion: it was 'him.' How had I not recognized his voice?' Was I so far gone that I couldn't even discern simple basics?'_

"_A response." He demanded._

_I could feel his hand at my back as his chest leaned against me propping me up. Knowing full well that saying yes meant further exhaustion, I couldn't help but remember the pulsating fire that raked through my body at just his touch, how could I rationalize saying no when his touch combined with the spell pulled me into an elated euphoric state._

"_Mm." I grumbled out, jerking my head slightly._

"_Very special," were the last words that escaped his mouth before the spell overtook me once more. The exhaustion that had plagued me evaporated as fire and adrenaline settled in. This time around the bouts of pain were far shorter then the bouts of pleasure, causing the intensity in the lower half of my body to tighten. My body shook, crying out for 'him' to continue, screaming for 'him' to come, begging for its release._

'_He' had moved away from me once more moving to rest in his throne. He looked down at me gleefully as he increased the intensity of the spell, reveling in the few muddled screams I let out. He continued this for what felt like hours before once again burrowing himself into me, with his mouth securely fastened to my own._

_This ritual continued for the rest of the day and into the night: I would come in and out of consciousness, each time my body burning more intensely. He would always ask if I'd like another present, knowing full well that I would never refuse. I couldn't refuse; my body needed it. Each time would end with my consciousness slipping away as I was forced back into a dark hole, within my mind._

_Finally, I regained consciousness observing the changes to the room: light filling each and every corner, curving around the various items in the room. Looking up behind the throne, a thin-silver mirror reflected what I had been unable to see behind me: sitting in opposite corners two bodies lay chained to the walls. Their clothes were tattered and dirt masked their faces making them unrecognizable accept for the one feature that so very few people had—bright bushy red hair._

_Slitting my eyes I tried to figure out whom exactly sat behind me; could it possibly be one of my brothers? 'But how.' I wondered, a small amount of despair settling into my chest. I took careful notice that more of my skin was bearing than I was reasonably comfortable bearing in front of my brothers. 'How long had they been here?' I reflected, realizing in horror that they likely had witnessed the events of the last couple of hours._

"_We have guests, Ginny. Do show proper courtesy." 'He' stated coldly._

_I could feel a twinge of guilt pooling, taking over my physical emotions. A single tear managed to brush over my cheek, a sad smile played upon my swollen lips. My family now would know, if 'he' didn't kill them they would return ready to divulge the happenings of tonight. 'I would never be able to return home.'_

"_No." I grasped out, begging for this to be an illusion-a simple figment of my imagination._

"_You do not wish to greet your own flesh in blood, is that what you would like me to believe, Ginny?" He asked moving to tower over me, his eyes boring stripping me of the last bit of strength I could muster._

"_They came such a long way just to see you," his eyes formed slits as he continued, "you wouldn't want to have them believe I've taught you such reprehensible manners, would you?"_

'_He' was doing it again. His logic had made such little sense when I got here, but apart of me knew that I had grown to accept it. I was not to question it._

_Finding a little bit of strength I managed to push out "Brothe…" before returning my lips to rest forming a straight line._

_Unable to fully comprehend my situation, I stared blankly at 'him' before shifting my attention back to the mirror. I could see a slight movement as one of the redheaded boys lifted his head his eyes piercing my form. He tried to say something, his voice muffled by the sores covering his mouth. I turned my head to the side, refusing to look into the two boys dark stares._

"_Looks like your trip has been much unappreciated, boys." 'He' stated smoothly, followed by a light chuckle. "Hopefully the show made the trip well worth it."_

"_No." I internally screamed, the words barely audible._

"_No, what Ginny?" 'He' inquired reaching down to cup my face with his hand. My body reacted of its own volition, curling into his hand my nose pressed against 'his' wrist. He pulled back, forcing my head to collide with the chipped stones. A dark red substance lined the tips of the stone as I felt blood trickling off of my neck._

"_It seems as though the guest of honor doesn't wish for you to pass on what happened here."_

_I could hear the clanking and clattering of the chains that held the boys, as they emitted low guttural growls trying to break free of their restraints. I was happy they were restrained; it made it easier not to have to face them. Easier not to be forced to feel their false-warmth grips of protection. Easier to hide my shame._

"_Would you like to return with them, Ginerva." 'He' remarked._

_Thoughts of the Burrow flashed through my mind of Molly pulling food out of the oven, the kitchen filled with various Weasley banter. Plates scratched together, as silverware dinged every time something was picked off the table. Memories of the table filled my vision, smiling faces skimming over my small frame. As much as I tried to latch onto these memories, apart of me realized that they would never come to fruition. The memories slipped from mind, filling with the last two months. 'His' face and touch ate at my mind, pictures and emotions flooding my conscious. It was with this I realized, "I don't want to leave."_

_I don't think 'he' had expected these words to slip from my mouth-his astonishment obvious through his perplexed expression. His face quickly readjusted to a blank emotionless slate as he moved over to where the boys sat._

"_If you want to stay, Ginny, you know what you must do." his hand reached down to grab at either boys chains pulling them both towards him. "If they were to return, they would never stop trying to free you from me."_

_His words settled into me, the fear of loosing 'him' overwhelming. I didn't understand why the thought of my brothers' death didn't faze me,_

"_They would separate us."_

'_His' words felt like a dagger to the heart. The emotional and physical reactions he evoked from me let me know that I was bound to him. I would have no choice but to stay by his side as long as I could._

"_Your other option is to stay, and I'll release you. What's built up inside of you doesn't go away, it's my present's special affect made just for you. If you choose to stay, however, I require your assurance that you are loyal. That you will stay. You will provide that assurance with their death."_

_I did know what I had to do. I couldn't let them run back to the burrow spreading the word that 'he' had contaminated me. That I had begged for him to increase his attack, writhing around in pleasure calling out to him. I would never be able to return to the Burrow, I would never be Ginny Weasley. Before I could question the wand that had maneuvered between my fingers, I lifted it muttering a rejuvenation spell so I could sit up._

_Slowly turning around, the two boys faces had fallen. They each looked as though mother had died, but surely she hadn't. I raised my wand, taking in each of their expressions before turning my eyes on 'him.' Memories of that face pushed me to flick my wand once to 'his' left and once to 'his' right, green light being the last remnants of what had occurred that night._

Draco passed me over curiously before leaning back into the wall nearest the whole back to the corridors. Specks of dust littered down from the sealing, falling into the creases in his cloak. He stared out at the window, his previous anger obviously subsiding.

I looked at him, flashes of that night with 'him' taking over my senses. A small ache pulsated throughout my body, racked with the need for warmth. Dropping my head, I shook it back and forth trying to rid my mind of the images.

Draco stared at me, a hint of fear flashing through his eyes. I couldn't believe that the son of Lucius Malfoy actually could fear _me_—but I guess killing your own flesh and blood does raise the question of one's capabilities. 'But who was he to judge,' I rationalized remembering that he, too, had killed his own flesh and blood—he had slain the woman that brought him into this world.

Feeling my body's adrenaline diminish, I worked my gaze back to rest on Draco's face. Combing over his face, I found myself zeroing in on his listless eyes wondering whether he had coped through hardening as well. It only seemed natural that one could deal with explicit emotions by compartmentalization, putting it out of conscious thought and into an area of the brain where it would lay dormant until purposely brought forth. It was natural, but it was all the more curious to see someone else mirror my own actions.

"Staring, Weaslet?" He droned out remaining completely still, minus the slight inflections in his face.

Something washed over me, causing me to not shy away from his confrontation and respond, "it's strange to watch myself in another's eyes." It was pure, brutal, and blunt honesty.

My words seemed to have a minor effect on him when the corners of his lips dipped down just slightly. He shifted his hands to rest above the pockets of his robe, playing with the fabric. "We're not that alike, Weaslet." He barked out, his tone harsh but his voice quiet.

"I don't reckon we are." I agreed turning away from him to face the room's sole window.

We stood there in awkward silence, both of us refusing to move. Thoughts of the past couple of weeks with Draco rushed through my mind. The determination that I could separate him from 'him' was quickly depleting as flashes of Draco's bulky arm around me, my lips crushing his, and his rough caress filtered into my mind. 'I'm hopeless,' I thought to myself sadly. 'I'll never break free from this need.'

Realizing my situation, I moved towards the tunnel hoping to be free of these thoughts. Be free of these unnecessary feelings. Shuffling my feet, I made it two feet away before a hand latched onto my upper arm. Feeling the iron grip, I knew it would be pointless to try and break free. Looking up at him, I met his eyes seeing something strange flash.

"Do you regret your actions?" he asked huskily.

"I did," I stated simply holding his gaze, "but not anymore."

His eyes once again flashed, and I focused in on him feeling myself inch forward making his grip on my arm increasingly uncomfortable. "Is it possible, that you too don't regret killing your mother?"

He didn't need to respond; his expression clearly indicated he agreed. I couldn't help but chuckle at the irony of it all- to think I had believed myself to be the sole owner of such a screwed up mind.

His grip loosened, his inquiry coming to an end. I stepped back, shifting my gaze away from him and back towards the tunnel. As I slipped completely from his grip a burrowed nuisance pricked within—'his' present reminding me that I was forever 'his.'

Awaking the next day, the exhaustion I met each morning seemed to have subsided and I felt a sense of calm settle in. Reveling in this small joy, I burrowed myself into the covers letting the faux-warmth sweep my mind back into a hazy past. The smell of pot roast, Danishes, and Weasley special pineapple cake filled my nose before it quickly vaporized. Although it had been short lived, the small comfort it had brought forced a small smile to materialize.

Pushing the blankets surrounding me to the side, I let my feet dangle over the side as I caught sight of myself in the mirror. A small glimmer of hope, something that I thought had been lost forever, passed through my expression. I didn't know why. I didn't care to second-guess it. Even if my smile was small, I was still smiling.

I'm not sure how long I had sat there staring at myself, contemplating the complications of my current predicament. For so long I had believed myself to be the sole bearer of this strange insanity; never would I have guessed that Malfoy shared some of my sentiments. It was comforting. 'Malfoy… comforting.' I scoffed inwardly, a grimace settling back into place.

But it was true. Malfoy provided me comfort that I thought only existed within 'him.' 'So much for trying to differentiate. Failure.' I stated, the harshness of the words playing out sardonically. _Was failure welcomed?_

Shaking off the thought, I pulled myself out of bed heading over to my dresser. I pulled out the top drawer and stared down at the ripped clothing surrounding the few garments still in tact. I reached carefully to the far right pulling out an untouched white blouse I had received from Hermione for Christmas. I paired it with a pair of ripped jeans and slipped my robes on once more. Looking once more at the mirror I recognized an old friend, the light reddish tint of a Weasley.

This marks the end of chapter 8. I know that this took a lot longer for me to get out than I had planed but writing this chapter was difficult. I hope that the end product is to your liking ^_^!

I have also decided to change the plot of the story. In doing so I had to be very particular about the structure of this chapter and its clues for the future :hint: :hint;

Can't wait to finish this~ Off to work on chapter 9 now ^_^

-CGLW


	9. Chapter 9

The stories plot is pleasantly in my care and is not yours. The characters and things used taken from HP are property of JK Rowling.

Warning: swearing and sexual allusions (No sex, however.)

A/N: I realized up to this point I have yet to mention who 'he' is, however I have tried to make it subtly obvious. This is not suppose to be one of this story's many mysteries, but rather exists to partially explain Ginerva's current state. I can't say more then this because it would give away answers to future questions, but this chapter will reveal officially who this 'he' is.

As a special thanks to those that have stuck out this story I want to personally respond to all of your amazing comments here:

**Boogum:** I hope that you'll come to understand why I portray Harry the way I do~ He's not pivotal to the story, however what he represents to Ginerva is important.

**aRebel aSaint:** You read it all again? 0_0. I feel so privileged! I hope you continue to enjoy this story and this chapter! Feel free to PM me with any specific questions or comments~ So happy that you came back to this story ^_^!

**Jamiegirl123:** Thank you so much for your review and your patience with the confusion. I actually have purposely made parts to be confusing as you are seeing things from the mind of Ginerva, who is basically unstable mentally. Even with all the confusion, I'm happy that you're enjoying it~

**Smiles012:** ^_^ Happy to hear it's gotten better (2 years hopefully improved my writing X-x)!~ I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Also, I have amended the intro to the first chapter clarifying that this is canon only up to the end of HP 4 (book) and is fanon from there on. For more clarification please refer back to chapter one~

Solitude…

Chapter 9

The day progressed quite ordinarily: classes remained uneventful, people milled about, and yet I felt as if today was anything but ordinary. I felt off. I felt very, very off. I couldn't help but notice a change in the way my feet met the ground: certainty piercing every echo made by the clash of my boot with the hard concrete. I could be mistaken, but I am almost certain that a glimmer of confidence had been ignited within me.

The overwhelming burst of strange drove a subsequent curiosity for much of what I had missed these last few months. I had frequented the dungeons, choosing it as my home and yet, now, I felt drawn to explore areas I had felt obligated to abandon for fear of exposure. Exposure much like what had happened in the common room when I let my guard down. But, 'I can't stay hidden forever' I remarked stepping off the moving stairway next to an old Victorian painting of a women laying across spiked grass as shadows from a grey moon danced along her some-what barren skin.

'I can't stay hidden forever,' I repeated as I moved into one of the fourth floor hallways my ears meeting its paintings' stentorian snores followed by short gruffs. In between the paintings stood strange looking statues, their different extensions jutting out towards the middle of the hallway. Moving along the hallway I contemplated the usefulness of such noise, which could mask heaving chests of a crying little girl, mask the mutterings of jinxes and curses at ones enemy, and even mask the groans of impassioned lovers. With the last thought a flash towards the night previous brought back the assault of Malfoy's own groans, drawing out a slight scowl upon my lips.

Without realizing the daze I had fallen into I felt my arm collide with a solid. Staring hazily up at what I had run into I started to make out a poised face wrapped in annoyance. Averting my eyes quickly I glanced at the ground and moved to the side muttering a light apology.

"Useless blood-traitor." Growled out a derisive voice.

Feeling the punch of the individual's words I couldn't help but meet his gaze. Standing close to six feet high with sharp features, Blaise Zabinni stood in front of me with a familiar face in tow.

"You're wasting your breath, Zabini. She's a mute; somewhat pathetic considering the rest of her lot always relentlessly rattles on. Yet, little Weaslet just stands their doe eyed, confused, and emotionless." The bearer of such _eloquent_ speech was none-other then Malfoy himself.

There was truth to what he had just stated, I don't deny that. However, I was not up for him right now. "How right you are little '_ferret,'"_ I stated rather coldly my eyes burning into his. "I the mute, and you the bitch. Your father's very own bitch." I had no idea what had come over me that these words flew from my lips so easily, but nothing within me ached to retreat.

A smile crept onto his lips as he rested a hand on Zabini's arm pulling him forward. Passing me he let slip, "and you 'his' bitch."

My eyes flashed treacherously at him, only to be met with his frolicsome expression. I couldn't help but soften, realizing that his current actions were a far cry from the scared and icy man from the night before. 'I guess we all have our own masks," I thought to myself as I turned away and headed towards the library at the end of the hall.

Pushing through the doors I was met with a light musty scent that seemed to overwhelm the confines of the first floor. Scanning the room I could see a few individuals spaced out at tables scribbling away on parchment with books piled past their very own heads. Moving past the desks, I looked into the seemingly empty stacks marking my very own pathway to an undisturbed location.

Each row I passed was predominantly empty with only a few students scattered throughout. My feet moved me deeper away from them and past the archives, until I finally reached the restricted section. Peering at my surroundings, I scanned to see if anyone was within sight; finally deciding there was no one, I slipped passed the barrier and moved towards the back and out of sight of those that may pass by.

Taking in my surroundings, I saw a black leather chair next to a window that was partially illuminated by the night sky. To the left of the chair rows of books scattered the charred-wood bookshelf resting against the stoned wall. One book stood out from the rest, the red binding clashing with the surrounding dark hues. Feeling myself drawn to the shelf I reached out and picked up the book reading its title: 'The Proper Lineage." 'What kind of rubbish could this possibly be?' I questioned before audibly scoffing, "Under Dumbeldore's watch no less."

Although I objected somewhat to the title, I was curious as to its contents. If the book were here it certainly couldn't be _that_—but I suppose this being the restricted section my logic wasn't necessarily sound. Releasing the clasp on the front of the book I flipped to the first page scanning down over it: _nothing. _'Surely it couldn't be blank,' I though flipping a few more pages in.

Words started to appear on the pages making out names and lines compiled into, what looked like, family trees. Scanning through the names I recognized a few from my textbooks, and a few reminded me of names I had heard pass through Hogwarts' halls but couldn't place.

Moving towards the back of the pages I caught sight of one very familiar name. A name that brought my breathing to a halt as I cradled the book, my eyes glued to the page: '_Riddle.' _The name was not printed into the book, bur rather written in next to Merope Gaunt in red ink. The script remained as curvy as I remembered it to be, written with impeccable elegance. I couldn't help but run my fingers over the slight indentation the red ink had left on the page, wondering if 'he' had once stood where I now stand.

Curiosity embraced me as I carefully set down the book I was holding and tore into the bookshelf looking for further red markings. Pages blurred together as dust mingled in the air, and yet I had found no other traces of red. My eyes darted maniacally, my heart racing from a mixture of unmet anticipation and irritation. Grazing the shelves once more over, my eyes caught sight of something seemingly tucked away. Reaching out to grasp the book, I felt myself falling as my crouched position proved to be unstable.

Hitting the floor, I grimaced as the right side of my face scratched the floor. Lying on the frigid concrete I could feel the throb pulsate from my, now, torn up knees and scratched cheek. Exasperation rose within at the realization that my white shirt was certainly no longer 'one of the non-torn items in my closet.'

Pulling myself forward my eyes set sight once again on the partially concealed book.

Earnestly I grabbed at the corner of the book bringing it to rest on my chest. Dragging myself up off of the floor, I was careful to make sure the book didn't touch the ground as an overwhelming self of propriety swept over me.

Staring intently at the book my mind flooded with muddled thoughts:

'If I am his and his' is mine, then if this is his surely it must subsequently be mine…'

'But who is to say whether being his necessitates his' being mine. Could I transgress against his set order and open what I mustn't?'

'He doesn't have to know, nor does he have the means to know.'

'But I will know.'

My thoughts were overwhelming, causing tension to overtake my body as slight tremors ran through to my fingers. Rationality had once again deserted me and I plunged into the book's pages ravaging through searching for 'his' markings. Page after page was filled with red markings: etchings of clarifications, addendums, and scratches.

I couldn't help but smile at being so close once again to 'him.' All I wanted to do was curl up and read through this taboo gem, but a rattle at the entrance to the restricted section alerted me to another's presence. I quickly tucked the book away behind me as I sunk into the leather chair.

Rustling sifted through the stacks as I stood frozen wondering who could possibly be back here. 'If a teacher finds you, you'll have to answer to them and depart with your prize,' I chided myself. 'Being so stupid as to hide in the open.'

My worries proved unwarranted as I finally caught sight of my guest, a sense of calm setting in. A tall figure with silvery-blonde hair stood sneering at me clearly enjoying the fear that had been ever so present only a few minutes prior.

"Ferret? Really your best, Weaslet?" He questioned, his sneer remaining plastered across his face. He moved forward so that he was standing in front of me. Looking me over his sneer slightly faltered, a hand slowly reaching out towards my scraped cheek.

Frozen in place I simply stared up at him waiting to feel the brush of his milky white fingers. Contact was never made as he pulled back, sneering once more.

Feeling myself relax back into the chair I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I realized how much I had wanted to feel his touch. I shifted in the chair, refusing to meet his eyes before muttering simply, "don't believe there's a better representation of your cowardice then when you became a pathetic little ferret."

"Cowardice," he stated pensively. "I would counter with opportunistic," he stated followed by a soft chuckle. "If your enemy let's their guard down it's only fair that you should seize the opportunity."

'He was right,' I thought to myself knowing full well that I too followed this basic logic. 'But that doesn't mean he has to know I agree.' Shifting once again in my chair, I brought my gaze to the window to look out at the dark clouds littering the sky. Sitting in silence all I could hear was his ragged breathing.

Breaking the silence I asked, "why are you here?" Something about the last few days had given me enough courage to tag on, "following me around, are we now?" Although my words were playful, my tone showed little inflection mirroring my expressionless expression.

After a minute or so of silence he broke it: "I can't seem to shake you," he said his voice becoming rugged and deep, "Ginerva."

I could feel my hand twitch at his declaration, but I did my best to remain still forcing my gaze to hone in on the outline of the window.

My indifference didn't seem to bring about the intended quietness I had predicted.

"Based upon what I had learned about you from my father, and others, I expected something so much different."

At the mention of his father I felt my hand twitch again followed by a slight shiver as I lowered my gaze down to the floor.

He continued, "I can't decide if you're broken or if you're just weak." He shifted against the wall causing his robes to rustle, "either way, I can't seem to figure you out."

Taking in his words, I felt their full affect. My ambivalent nature took over as I fought to distinguish whether I was annoyed with his invasion into who I was, or rather if I was excited at the prospect of him entering my personal life.

Taking the opportunity of my distracted state, he slid a finger under my chin raising it until my eyes were set on his nose. I couldn't meet his eyes. I feared my expression, for I could barely assess where I stood on the issue of Malfoy.

I could feel his hot breath as he brought his face closer to rest inches from me. He gently placed a lock of hair that had fallen in front of my eyes back behind my ear, his fingers grazing my cheek as he brought his fingers to rest back on my chin.

"Self induced?" he inquired, likely referring to the state of my face.

I slowly shook my head no, feeling the rough dryness of his fingers graze my chin with each shift right-to-left and left-to-right.

His other hand came up to trace the scratches that marked my pathetic clumsiness. His breath hastened as he drew closer invading the little space that separated us. Waiting for what I believed would come next, I closed my eyes in anticipation.

"What was it like, as my father's bitch?" he solicited his grip growing stronger forcing my eyes to dart up to his own. "What was it like servicing your own family's enemy?"

Numbness that had saved me so many times in the past set in as I looked towards Malfoy, my eyes glazed over. 'I never serviced him, you nimwhit,' I thought to myself tiredly. 'He did things that I may never voice, but he was never to touch me.' "'He' wouldn't allow it."

His mouth turned into a slight snarl as he rasped out, "He, who? Wouldn't allow what?"

"As you insinuated before, Malfoy," I stated calmly pulling back away and out of his grasp, "I was to be only 'his.' 'His' bitch, as you so eloquently put it." My blood was boiling at the thought that I was uttering such intimate details to someone who dared to accuse 'him' of being weak enough to be forced to share me.

He once again invaded my space as he towered over the chair his face bent down towards me. "What was it like being 'his?" he inquired, this time softly.

"I knew nothing different." I stated, avoiding the buried truth surrounding these words.

"The way 'he' talks of you…" he started before I cut him off with a look of incredulity.

"'He's' mentioned me?" I tried to mask my strange sense of excitement, but failed miserably as I found a tint of heat creeping into my cheeks.

"Many times," Draco remarked his eyes narrowing down at me looking visibly confused.

I couldn't quite wrap my head around this tidbit of information as I stared back at Draco, our gaze held. I had no idea what 'he' had expressed to Draco. I felt stripped of the little power I had gained from the secrets I thought I—and I guess 'he'—only held.

"The way he talks of you, his choice of words…" he trailed off looking past me. "You should be broken, you shouldn't be able to command the presence you do."

Something within his tone drew my eyes to follow his face to where it stood, blank, staring out at nothing. '_Presence,' _I thought to myself trying to decipher what presence I could possible have commanded. I was almost certain I had remained under the radar these past few months.

"I've seen 'his' affect on you and yet you remain strong."

'I remain so because of the strength you've allowed me to regain,' I thought to myself knowing I could never give him the power that this information would provide.

"Truly exquisite, you are."

I wanted to say something, anything that would break the growing tension as he husked his last sentence. Bringing a hand up, I rested my palm on his shoulder forcing him to face me. "I am anything but, Malfoy. Your father should have told you clearly what I was."

I couldn't help but react to my own words, contemplating what horrid words that wretched man could have used in reference to me.

"But you are," he stated bringing his hand back to my chin. "Although a large part of me finds you revolting, I can't but help to be curious what draw you hold to have lured two men of power to speak of you in the way that they do."

No words were spoken as he brought his mouth down to cover mine. His kiss was void of caution; rather, it was harsh, ragged, but empowering. His hand snaked around to seize my neck pulling me up so that I was resting on the edge of the chair. I relished the initial touch, and delighted in the little circles his probing tongue was making drawing my own out.

His arms jerked latching onto my shoulders forcing me up and thrust me up pressing my head against the frosted window. His hands danced gently along my back before roughly gripping my sides, intensifying the pulsation swelling within me. I couldn't help myself as I bit down on his lower lip, basking in the hint of iron before I was sortied by blood. The bite didn't deter him, however, as he increase his roughness.

He pushed me deeper into the wall, causing my back to spasm slightly as a jagged rock pierced and likely broke my skin. His mouth moved from my mouth down to the crook of my neck, which he brushed with his teeth before biting down. The pain was minimal in comparison to what I was used to, but the sensation of pain mixed with lust was all too familiar.

I drove my clipped nails into his back as I let my head fall back into the wall taking in the welcomed assault. He didn't hesitate before lifting my body up so that my legs remained midair straddling his waist, as he ran his hand up my inner thigh lingering to pinch every so often. Involuntarily, my legs latched onto him driving him closer; my emotions overpowered by desire.

"And you wonder why I call you exquisite," he chided in the brief seconds his mouth had left my skin before returning to its plunder on my mouth.

Hisses, rasps, growls, and moans flittered throughout the room as we continued our exploration of one another. I could feel the need building as I sought out a release, pushing myself against him with force that brought us to the ground. Our mouths parted from one another and I shifted side-to-side as I straddled his hips.

He let me have my way as I continued my movements the fabric of my jeans constricting my range of motions but forcing the seams to elicit small cries through gritted teeth.

As emotions wafted over me I realized that the release I needed could not come; I had been programmed to only part with the need when 'he' provided the deliverance. Forcing myself up off of him, I rolled so that I was laying next to him my breaths heavy.

"Bloody exquisite," he quipped grasping my hand before forcefully squeezing it, drawing my body to rest in his outline. Tears of frustration stung at my eyes threatening to streak down my cheeks, but the grip he held on my hand provided the necessary distraction to push the tears out of sight.

Today was certainly anything but ordinary.

End of Chapter 9

I hope you enjoyed, I truly do. I hope you don't hate me for the cliffhanger, but as a chapter it stands as is. I am working fast on Chapter 10 as it does compliment this one!

I would love feedback, especially on how I've painted the scene. I can see vividly what I imagine to have occurred, but that can stop me from being able to provide you with the tools to see it as well~

Thanks once again,

CGLW


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Muchos thanks to the following reviewers: Jamiegirl123 and Ezriella.

Just to clear up something 'he' is Tom Riddle/Voldy~

Also, because this took so long for me to get out (stupid writers block/perfectionist tendencies,) I made this chapter extra long~ Hope you enjoy!

**Solitude..**

**Chapter 10**

**Warning: this chapter contains violence. Read at your own discretion. (If you wish to read over the violence please don't read the italicized portion towards the end of this chapter.)**

We remained as we were for a good half hour, silence mingled with soft breaths. The curvature of his outstretched body provided a foreign warmth, which contrasted the chill of the floor below. Neither Malfoy nor I had actually set eyes on the other; it seemed as though the ceiling had become thoroughly gripping.

'What had I just done?' I wondered, curiosity dominating the urge to chide. His titillating fingers had fixated on my waist, his body weighted me against the wall, his chest constricting my own. Breathing had seemed an afterthought as our lips mingled interspersed with light nips.

"Truly special," Draco voiced confounded.

'Special…,' I thought to myself recognizing the words 'he' had reserved specially for me. Draco's voice was void of the chill that backed 'his' words, however his phrasing was identical.

"'He told you?" I moused out.

"He did," he stated forthright clearing away any evidence of deniability.

'How much does Malfoy know?' I wondered, curious whether I should prod Malfoy or be satisfied that my name still graced 'his' lips. To be adorned with an emphatic fondness in such a simple endearment had prompted my own piety for 'him.' Whether it was the depth at which 'he' would speak the endearment or the sensation it arose within myself, it put me under an indestructible spell.

Draco moved so that his gaze was now fixated on my clouded-over eyes. I could feel his orbs burrowing, causing my body to inadvertently attempt to shift away. Before I had even shifted a mere inch his fingers latched onto my wrists pulling me forward forcing my head to rest on his chest. "Don't."

I could only assume he meant 'don't move.' 'Why?' I pondered slightly bitterly. I had for far too long been subject to the territorial nature of man, starting off from my own brothers until I became 'his;' first they seek to claim, then conquer, and finally entrap.

'But he can't claim you,' I remarked knowing full well that I was eternally claimed, 'and he knows it.'

"If 'he' knew," I jeered bringing a hand to rest on his side as I trailed my fingers along his torso.

"I would be missing certain imperative appendages." Malfoy's tone was slightly playful but laced with despondence.

"Yet you risk it," I stated evenly as curiosity ravaged internally.

His finger glided under my chin as he pulled my face to meet his, a smirk evident. "Tantalizing. Intoxicating. Trivial," he remarked somewhat passively. The words hung in the air as his face darkened, "A drug."

'And 'he' mine.' I thought morosely.

"I can understand why, Weaslette: the charge that surges through your veins as you give in, it's intoxicating to see and rather hard to forget."

"I was taught well." It was a simple response that said all that needed to be said. I had been programmed to react when properly required and to move such that I would distract. It was a mixture of survival and instinct that made my actions the way they were.

"Father?" He inquired, knowing full well that his father had never experienced what I had bestowed upon Malfoy this evening.

"You bother asking…"

"Mine alone," he declared increasing his grip on my wrists.

"That's where you're wrong Malfoy," I directed, "I am 'his' alone."

"And yet it is my fingers that rest upon you now, it is _I_ that am marked by you." To reinforce his point he pulled me farther up his chest so that my face loomed above his.

"I suppose it is," I said curling myself further into him reveling in the electricity that seemed to race through the two of us.

"I don't plan to share you!" He remarked his eyes fixated on my own. I could tell that he felt as though he had gained something tonight. I was a prize in his mind.

"I'm not yours to share, Malfoy," I stated clearly.

"Try me," he menaced.

I only smiled. It was an odd reaction, but it fit the situation. A part of me, whether it be sick or not, liked the protection his words afforded me.

* * *

That night I had made it back to the Gryffindor tower effortlessly. Once entering the common room, I felt my sense of ease quickly quashed as I set my gaze upon three heads situated in close quarters near the fireplace. Ron sat in the middle chuckling at god knows what.

"Fred sent me a new batch," Ron informed the others as he pulled something from his pockets.

'_Fred.' _I thought disheartened as I moved past them towards the stairs leading up to the girls' dorm. I followed the spiraling staircase up to the fifth floor before stepping out into the corridor where my room was located. I stood still as footsteps pittered and pattered away below.

"Potter," I droned out exhausted at the mere thought of his presence.

"Yes, Gin," He remarked sadistically.

I turned around to meet his eyes, my disheveled appearance seemingly remaining unnoticed. I simply stared at him, resolving not to give him the benefit of banter.

He stared back at me before reaching out a clutched hand. His arm remained extended, his eyes clearly asking for me to put out my own. I hesitated wondering his reasons for such queer behavior.

"Gin." His voice seemed bored. 'No, not bored,' I thought to myself, 'rather tired, I suppose.'

I reached out a hand as he opened his dropping a small bottle into my hands. I peered down at the bottle trying to discern the contents.

"It's from your brothers."

At his declaration I looked up at him, my eyes growing unnaturally large. 'They couldn't have possibly sent something for me,' I contemplated spitefully.

"It's meant for Ron," he stated as if reading my own thoughts. He had been good at knowing what I was thinking, always coming up with something that would comfort me when I was weak. That was until last summer. "It's an enchantment potion; you can use it to create or mold something to your will."

I grasped the bottle between my fingers as I turned on my heel and moved back towards my own bed. I didn't bother to look back at Harry, I knew he would still be standing there.

Once safely within the confines of my room I opened my top drawer, which held the locket given to me by my mother as well as 'his' trinket, and placed the bottle and 'his' book in it before carefully closing it. Lifting the covers I slid between the sheets, and fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

The great hall was crowded, brightened faces littering the nooks and crannies. I scanned the various tables before my eyes landed on flaxen wisps. I internally smirked as I moved amongst the tables towards the far end of the Gryffindor table, glancing every-so-often back at the silver-tongue flaxen-haired Slytherin.

Internally, stress had mounted as I had passed through my classes finally culminating in my current state. This morning, I had awoken to Draco's words claiming me as his own. I knew all too well the anguish that came from releasing oneself to another, and had decided to take it upon myself to tease out his tenacity. 'Did he have it in him to fully claim me?' I pondered impishly as I closed the gap between the Gryffindor table and myself.

I situated myself down, positioning it so that Malfoy had a direct view. My actions rang slightly peculiar, but logically it made sense: if he wanted to 'claim' me he would have to do so publicly. 'See him try.' I chuckled my thoughts turning mischievous.

Looking up I caught his gaze. Taking advantage of the connection, I removed my robes to clearly reveal the silken blue halter dress that I had paired with a black cardigan. I smirked as I watched his eyes flicker, fully enjoying his discomfort.

His hands twitched as he reached towards his plate latching onto a roll, his fingers piercing it. He broke eye contact as he shifted his gaze between those that sat beside him, before settling once more on myself.

My eyes dared him to make a move—anything really—but I knew he wouldn't. 'Cowardice,' I mocked. I trailed my hands along the wood of the table as I slid my leg over the bench and turned towards a group of Ravenclaw boys that were chatting away behind me. Glancing quickly back at Malfoy, I smiled and brought my gaze once more to the Ravenclaw boys.

"Excuse me," I inquired curious to see if they would heed my query.

The tallest of the bunch turned his head around revealing sharp set features molded around two grey sunken orbs. His eyes did exactly what I expected as they raked over my form, clearly ignoring any sense of propriety. "Yes?" He asked as his eyes finally settled on my face.

I knew at this point I had proven my point. I need not engage further, but something within me loved the game too much. I had played it with 'him' a few times at formal gatherings at his request, but I never had the freedom to play with my own set of rules. 'Now I do,' I thought confidently.

"Are any of you well versed in the History of Magic as it pertains to regions surrounding Eastern Europe?" I let my registrar drop so that my voice came out naturally raspy.

I watched, comfortably amused, as the boys glanced at one another sharing equally formidable stares as they non-verbally tried to decide who would answer me. The grey-eyed boy seemed to have triumphed as a smirk spread across his face and he turned once more to me. "I may know a thing or two," he slithered out his voice laced with a disgusting amount of desperation.

'Remember your purpose,' I chided myself as I felt distaste grow at his sad display. I reached out a hand to rest on the lapel of his robe as I shifted forwards. I forced myself to remain focused on his face, suppressing the bile that arose from his putrid scent. "I'll be in the library later," I stated pulling back, "Hopefully I'll see you there."

'I wouldn't,' I remarked to myself knowing that I would likely never see this pathetic creature again.

I stood slowly making sure to adjust my dress so that it ceased to ride up as it had when I was sitting. I looked back at the now visibly seething Slytherin, relishing victory. 'Try me, Malfoy.'

It was a dangerous ploy, but I was confident that he wouldn't be able to do anything. I made my way out of the Great Hall, passing directly behind him covertly dragging my fingers along his back.

I walked along the corridors outside of the Great hall as I clutched my robe, finally letting the fear driven adrenaline take over. 'I hadn't played the game for such a long period of time,' I thought as I slipped into an empty side classroom. "Too long." I let out the deep breath I had been holding in and slumped against the wall.

I crumbled, as the adrenaline seeped out of my body leaving my arms straggled out in front of me. Although I felt the overwhelming sweep of fatigue, the taste of victory was still fresh upon my tongue. I couldn't help but smirk as I remembered his face contorting into a combination of coveting and abhorrence. "Try me," I mustered out before my eyelids closed over effectuating pure darkness.

I didn't sleep, I simply pondered. The subterfuge had commenced and closed in proper fashion, each action carried out flawlessly. I had followed a proper codified formula, one that had been instilled into me during the many nights 'he' had called for me. Routinely manipulating soirees so that I would be paired off with one of his unsuspecting followers, he would commence with the façade.

I was to keep myself within his sight at all times, as was his first rule. Every article of clothing that graced my ivory skin was craftily chosen to mirror what he had so quaintly referred to as his own little Mata Hari. Adorned with deep violet rubies set around white silver, a Victorian necklace accented my bare neck, drawing the schlemiel to his last feast and 'him' in for what he referred to as '_his final triumph_.'

I followed proper etiquette ensuring that my fingers only graced outer garments, never to make contact with another's skin. As I ensnared, 'he' would await his entrance. Upon proper entrapment 'he' would sweep in denouncing his followers loyalty and subjecting him to a torturous death played out in front of any and all on-lookers.

Knowing the men he cavorted with, I had never once felt remorse as the men thrashed upon the ground. In all likelihood, they too had dished this treatment out to innocents. They had deserved it.

Prying my eyes open I breathed in deeply, reacting uncomfortably to the harshness of the cold air. I pulled myself up so that I was now sitting, and wrapped my robe around my shoulders as I retreated into the creases' soft embrace.

The door cracked open, and I waited anxiously hoping that I was correct in assuming Malfoy would come. Low and behold he stood before me his face masked in fury, his fists slightly balled. 'He had thought it too easy to claim,' I remarked as I turned my eyes upon him, 'far too easy.'

"Care to explain?" He questioned his mouth creased into a straight line.

I peered at him, manipulating my expression to one of bewilderment. I crept farther into my robes, allowing it to envelop me creating a barrier between him and myself.

"Weaslette?" he prodded, his voice becoming impatient.

'No,' I though to myself rather insolently, 'I don't.' I continued to peer at him, making sure that my face remained as it was. I shuffled a bit within my robes, pulling my wand closer to my hands.

"Failure to lay claim to," I stated smoothly ensuring that my expression didn't falter.

His eyes grazed over me voraciously before transforming into indifference. Without an utterance of acknowledgement, he turned on his heel and left the room once more.

Once more I was left in the company of lady solitude.

* * *

The next day I was subjected to murmurs in each of my classes about yesterday's great hall display. Early in the day, it was with relative ease that I was able to ignore them. Yet, now as I sat in potions, I felt slight indignation picking away at my resolve

The crack of books hitting desks signaled the entrance of Professor Snape, who looked livid. Snape billowed towards his desk, not bothering to pick up the waste he knocked onto the floor in his wake.

"You all shall be actively working today to fulfill a unique request," Snape spat out making eye contact with Ariella, who's chair was now rattling with her minor convulsions. "Due to one of your housemates ignorance of signage, we will be producing Veritaserum."

Muffled questions and assertions spread throughout the class, each in wonderment of what could have brought about this request.

A single hand jutted into the air to my right, as Anna asked out of turn, "I thought that Veritaserum takes a full-moon cycle to mature, making our creation of the potion rather futile."

Snape's gaze at poor Anna mirrored the one my mother had worn once after Fred and George had set the yard on fire, killing mother's garden and a few gnomes. He retorted disparagingly, "You would be wrong in your assumption." He continued with his mocking tone as he approached Anna, "do pray tell why you would believe your professor to supply you all with a _futile _task."

Snape's towering over Anna had clearly shaken her, as she finally dropped her gaze and shifted in her seat. 'Karma,' I thought to myself smugly.

"I…, I…," Anna stuttered out.

"No worries, Perrycoat. Your answer is rather, how might I best frame it…, futile." As Snape finished his statement, he turned back towards his desk and detracted 30 points from Gryffindor and set about dictating how the students were to progress with creating the potion.

Although I had been slightly distracted by Anna and Snape's charade, my mind kept coming back to the professor's reference towards signage. 'There are so few signs in this school,' I mused, 'most only exist to warn students where they are barred from entering.'

With that final thought, it hit me. '_The Restricted Section._' Internally scoffing, I audibly chuckled at the thought that I had actually done something to rouse attention to myself. 'Considering the amount of Law-malfeasant students we have roaming these corridors, I doubt that I was the cause of Snape's fretting.'

Throughout the rest of the class period, students labored over their potions trying to evade Snape's attention. One of Anna's friends had made the mistake of adding dry sprouted root in before it was to be added in, and had caused her cauldron to overflow. Snape had not only mocked her in front of the entire class, but had forced the girl to strip of her robe and use it to clean the floor. From that point on, students remained quiet as they fidgeted away trying to perfect their potions.

I had successfully finished my potion a good ten minutes before anyone else, and now sat back in my chair awaiting the end of class. Snape, likely noticing my inactivity, came over to inspect; his eyes narrowed as he sniffed at the potion before picking up a misshaped ladle. He dropped the liquid from the ladle back into the Cauldron and looked back up at me. "Nice job, Weasley. It seems as though at least one of your family members can boast of minor competence."

I was pretty certain that his intention was to rile, but he seemed oblivious to the fact that I no longer associated with the Weasleys. "I guess one of us, does," I retorted nonchalantly.

/

Finally class was about to end, and I had packed up my books. I grabbed at my bag as I made way towards the door leading out into the dungeons. Right as I was at the door, I was stopped in my tracks at hearing my name.

"Ginerva," the cold voice said behind me.

Turning around slowly I came face-to-face with Snape who laid a hand on my wrist leading me back towards his office quarters. I didn't bother questioning his grip as I quietly navigated towards his office, contemplating what he wished to speak with me about.

Once in his office, he closed the door and motioned for me to take a seat. Choosing the red chair that was situated farthest from his desk, I awkwardly sunk down.

"Ginerva," Snape started off, "It's come to my attention that you've found something."

My eyes grew slightly bulging as his words sunk in. I couldn't help but grow uneasy at the though that he might know about 'his' book, or as I saw it 'my_ book.' '_Surely he wouldn't have the authority to remove it from my person,' I asserted doubtfully.

"One of my students has come forward to inform me about a certain passageway near the Slytherin Commons, which you were seen in." My pulse calmed down slightly as I could ensure _my book_'s safety; only to speed up when I realized which student he must be referring to. "Why exactly were you in that vicinity?"

"I wasn't aware that the dungeons were off limits to Gryffindors, professor."

His eyes narrowed slightly in recognition of my evasion. "The dungeons are not off limits," he retorted smoothly, "however one has to wonder what kind of trouble you've found yourself in to be snooping around the Slytherin Commons."

'Thick,' I thought to myself realizing he was trying to find some great plan that he would pin on the boy-who-lived. 'So why not lead him on.' "I was looking for something, for Harry."

The gleam that danced across his eyes was a strange sight to be sure, but it also meant I was to be released from this meeting.

"What might that be, Ms. Weasley," he inquired his tone turning polite.

"Harry doesn't trust Malfoy. Something about the Dark Mark, Death Eaters, etc." Knowing what I was saying gave me a sense of authority, especially considering my words were sure to bring about detention for Potter. 'Revenge's a bitch.' I remarked as I externally chuckled.

"Do you find this matter funny, Weasley?" Snape's voice once again returned to its investigative nature.

"No, sir."

"Good. Then I would ask that you cease your exploration of those rooms, and continue to focus on your studies. I was impressed with your concoction today and I expect that you will maintain your current progress." His praise was laced with expectance of failure, marked with his typical tone he used on Gryffindors.

I simply smiled at him and excused myself.

"Oh, and Ms. Weasley," called the professor, "I'd ask that you from now on you report for the seventh years potions class. I shall be seeing you tomorrow at 2pm sharp."

Contemplating his words I chose not to turn around; I simply stared ahead recognizing what his words implied: 'I would be attending class with both the 'boy-who-really-should-stop-living' and Malfoy himself.

"Good day Ms. Weasley," remarked the professor as I made my way out of his office quarters and back into the Potions classroom, all the while smiling at the realization that the Veritaserum was meant for another poor soul.

* * *

After leaving the classroom, one word had burned into my mind: 'Malfoy.' He was the only one who knew that I had been in that corridor, and, thus, could have been the only one to tell Snape. 'Why?' I wondered before realizing the ridiculous of my own question. 'It was a power play, plain and simple,' I thought bitterly biting my tongue, 'this was his way of letting me know he still held control over me.'

Although I was somewhat impressed with his brazen attempt at using Snape, I scoffed at the notion that he had actually successfully achieved his goal. Not only was I now in the position to taunt Malfoy on a daily basis in my new potions class, but I also had effectively retaliated against Potter. If anything, Malfoy had helped me declare my independence.

Nonetheless, I still wanted to make it clear to Malfoy that he had in fact not succeeded. Thus, I had spent the last half an hour trudging through the dungeons searching for the silver tongued Slytherin, each corner turning up nothing but a puff of stale air.

Going down one of the narrower tunnels, I felt my foot catch on a rock as my body came down hard against the dungeons jagged wall. A small amount of blood trickled out of a gash running near my hairline as a haze fell over my vision. My body went into a seemingly comatose state as memories drifted through my brain, threatening to take control.

I fought hard to pull myself up as I pushed through the haze hoping to recognize something, anything. Although I couldn't be certain, the door that lay a few feet from me's coat of pure dirt rang familiar. Pulling myself forward, I shuffled over on my knees trying hard not to let the ache within my head overpower. Mechanics took over, and my hand grasped the doorknob turning once left before roughly turning it back right. Reaching up my left blood splattered hand I tapped twice on the lower keyhole, which allowed me entrance into the room.

I fell into the room, unable to close the door as black and silver assaulted my eyes before I fell once more into a transfixed state.

* * *

_Screams could be heard bouncing around the hollow walls as I paced back and forth in my cage. I couldn't distinguish the voices, and was having a hard time pinning how far away they were coming from. Yet, the intensity of the piercing shrill cries lead me to believe that the screamer had to be near._

_A roar followed one of the shrieks as a red light filled the corridor, and footsteps marked someone's approach. Backing away from the front of the cage, I pressed myself against the wall putting myself in a position to first see whoever came by before they saw me._

_I ignored the musty scent that passed over my nose due to my proximity to the dirt-ridden walls, and watched quietly as a black robe came into view. I held my breath in wonderment, recognizing at once the pale skinned man standing before me. He turned his head so that his eyes met mine, a smirk overtaking his features as he reached for the lock. He whipped out his wand and stared at the lock, undoubtedly using an unspoken curse to break the lock._

_Nausea set in as I stared frozen held by his gaze. Once he had freed the lock he pulled back the cage before sauntering over to me. Our height difference allowed a shadow to be cast, which blocked the light from illuminating his face. His features stood out just the same: a sharp jaw paired with sunken eyes rimmed with traces of insomnia. Moving to his smirk I made out that his upper lip was thinner then his bottom lip._

"_Sad. Pathetic. Weaslette." His sharp words cascaded over me further paralyzing me._

"_I see they've finally put you where you belong. Marked you as the true trash that you are."_

_I looked up at him, fear evident in my eyes as I watched his hand come to stroke the left side of my face. I couldn't asses what his motives were as his thumb brushed my lips, causing a slight squeak to emit between my lips._

"_Such beauty wasted on retched blood traitorous bitches," he stated just above a whisper. "Such beauty."_

_I couldn't help but grimace as his hand cupped my chin pulling me forward so that I was pressed into him. Fear still gripped me keeping my body immobile, but my head was screaming for me to run-to get out of this situation. If I were found like this, 'if 'he' found me I would surely pay a steep price._

_Not a moment passed between where my thoughts ended and his hand came to clutch my throat. I could feel my airway restrict as his fingers dug into my neck as he threw me against the wall._

"_Such a retched waste," he spat out._

_His hand came down to grip my hair as he pulled me up, blood starting to stream over my face. He pulled me up until I once again was eye level as he pushed my back into the wall, not bothering to react to the scream that escaped my mouth as I felt something pierce my shoulder._

"_Why you are of interest, I shall never fully understand," he hissed as he brought a hand up to my stomach. His fingers pulled up the fabric of my shirt allowing him to graze his ice-cold fingers across my ashen skin. It was short lived as he brought his snake headed cane back and then plunged it into my stomach forcing my body to coil. _

_He dropped me to the floor watching me, as I lay there covered in dirt and my own blood. I reached up a hand to my head where I could feel the blood had cemented to my hair causing it to cake itself to my scalp. My vision started to cloud as I felt my conscious slipping. I peered once more at him, only to be met with the heel of his boot as it smashed into my side. The pain set in for a brief moment before I fell into an unconscious state._

_

* * *

_

Reeling from remembrance, I felt myself scream. The screams came out in spurts as I choked on my words and my eyes clenched tight wishing the pain to dissipate. I reached into my robes scrambling for my wand. I clutched the wooden rod between my fingers as I pointed it at myself whispering a spell.

The door shut with a shrill creak and I flicked my wand forcing my body to slam into the couch that rested in the middle of the room. The force of the spell had caused my head to thrash increasing the throbbing. Crying out I bit down hard on my lip, causing iron to fill my mouth's taste buds.

'Damnit,' I barked at myself internally trying hard to keep still. No matter how hard I tried to keep my body from convulsing it would twitch here and there causing the gashes to open allowing a slow flood of blood to drip down my face.

Gripping my wand once more I muttered a spell that effectively numbed my body, freezing it in place. The only thing that marked my presence in the room was the shrill screams that fluttered out between my lips and bounced around the room.

It felt as if hours had passed as I lay screaming, numb to the reasons behind the screams. Fear constricted my minds pleas to release the spell so that I could work towards healing my wounds. My screams intermingled with the sound of a door closing as I raked my eyes to settle upon what I could make of the door.

The haze that clouded my eyes prevented me from making out the figure that loomed over whipping around a wand. At his movements my screams subsided and I stared blankly at the figure. Following a final twitch of the figures wand I felt the numbing spell break. I waited for the paint to wash over me, waited for the throbbing to start up once more, only to realize that all that remained of my wounds was the caked in blood.

Clarity returned and I could finally make out bits and pieces of the figure as he reached down to take me into his arms. He guided me onto the couch as he propped my head up with one of the feather plush pillows. He noticeably jerked away from me causing my hands to twitch suddenly afraid.

"Silly Weasel," cooed a familiar voice, "you never learn, do you?"

"M..M..alfoy," I stuttered out my mouth turning dry.

"Shh, little Weasel," he whispered bringing a hand to push the hair from my face.

I reached out a hand unwittingly tugging at his arm, motioning for him to break the distance that separated us. His body lay unmoved as his hand came to brush off my attempt. The cold air finally nipped as a sense of forlorn set in.

In an obvious abuse of the situation, Malfoy coyly offered, "if you really want me _that badly, _Weasel, then I suggest you admit that you are mine alone."

The ache that spread throughout my body broke down my stubbornness, as I gave in; "I.., yours…me," I mustered out.

"Good, little Weasel," he stated as he pushed my body further into the couch before slowly wrapping his arms around me. "All mine," he declared in an annoying victorious voice as he settled into the couch.

Ruminating over my current predicament I felt the wash of pain accompany memories of the last couple of weeks. Pain was quickly overtaken by twisted elation at the remembrance of Draco's welcomed assault when he had ravaged my lips marking me as his very own. The arms that encircled me arose a sense of peculiarity, a sense of true security. I felt protected.

I recognized at once that solitude's grip had weakened. 'Draco had weakened solitudes hold, tearing away at my hidden entropy. Although this was true, a strong part of me knew that it was not as easy said as done to break free from 'him.' I knew that I shouldn't harbor the desperation I did for 'him,' but those months with 'him' and the subsequent times at Hogwarts had solidified 'his' ownership over me: my mind and body were tied to 'him.'

Questions filled my mind with unease as I wondered whether I would ever see 'him' again? If I would ever reach a proper end? A small part of me wondered if I still wanted to go as easily as I had before, a small part that couldn't forget the flaxen-haired ferret that lay besides me.

I simply grunted as I curled into him, ignoring the warnings, which were telling me the danger that existed if 'he' ever was made aware of my actions. Deciding to ignore my thoughts I pulled at his shirt bringing his chest closer allowing me to nuzzle my head into his chest.

End of Chapter 10

So I set up a few things for future chapters here as well as gave you an idea of how Ginerva thinks. Next chapter is going to have a special scene that I am VERY excited to write. Expect the next chapter before FEB (writing is harder now that I've started up at Uni again~)

Would love to hear your feedback, whether positive or negative, so long as it's constructive~ ^_^!


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